


Daniel in the Den

by Evenstar656



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Serious Injuries, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:46:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evenstar656/pseuds/Evenstar656
Summary: Time seemed to slow; Jim watched in utter horror at the look on his best friend’s face as his fingers twitched ever so slightly.  It only took a fraction of a second for the phaser to discharge.
Comments: 85
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Star Trek Into Darkness, Selling the Farm, General AOS, “Conscience of the King” (TOS)
> 
> Disclaimer: The Star Trek franchise and its characters are property of Paramount. Title of work based upon Bastille song “Daniel in the Den”.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Just a bit of shameless h/c that’s been sitting on my hard drive for years, it was meant to come after Selling the Farm but here we are now. As always, although I am a doctor I’m not that kind of doctor (or lawyer) so I happily practice with my fictional degrees.
> 
> Warnings: Detailed descriptions of torture and injury (adult) and imprisonment of a minor (not graphic). Language.
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes, this was un-beta’d

###

_And felled in the night_

_By the ones you think you love_

###

"I'm so sorry, Jim," determined hazel eyes were locked onto desperate blue ones. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Jim pleaded to his best friend as he stared down the barrel of the phaser pointed at him. 

Shaky fingers tightened their grip on the trigger, “They have Joanna.” 

“Bones, you know I can help you.”

“I don’t have a choice," McCoy took several slow breaths, lowering his heart rate in preparation to fire the weapon.

 _Breathe in, hold...1, 2, 3...exhale...1,2,3._

“Please, _Leonard_ , you know I can help you.”

McCoy’s heart ached to hear Jim use his actual name in desperation. 

“Not this time, Jim.” 

Time seemed to slow; Jim watched in utter horror at the look on his best friend’s face as his fingers twitched ever so slightly. It only took a fraction of a second for the phaser to discharge. There was a bright flash of blue from the muzzle as the particles left the barrel before a searing pain rippled through his chest. 

McCoy remained stoic as Jim dropped to the deck plating. His face revealed no trace of the anguish from his heart breaking or the sickness in his gut. There was no way to turn back from his path now. He tucked the phaser into the back of his pants and dropped to confirm that Jim was down for the count with a quick check of his pulse. 

Of course it was the bastard’s own fault that he only needed one shot to take him down after his incessant badgering to keep everyone’s marksmanship qualifications up to date. He didn’t have time to be sentimental or think about what he was doing. The instructions he’d received had been crystal clear, deliver the captain or his daughter would be shipped back to him in multiple parcels. He grumbled that Jim was a lot heavier than he looked as he dragged the man up the ramp and into the nearby shuttle. 

_I should’ve shot him inside the shuttle._

McCoy managed to manhandle Jim’s dead weight into a seat and buckle the safety harness. It churned his stomach to see the man slumped over against the straps. Jim’s head rolled with the movement as he placed a sensor to monitor his consciousness level on his forehead. The doctor knew Jim inside and out, and he knew that the stun wasn’t going to keep him out for the entire journey. The doctor had brought enough sedatives to make sure that Jim remained down, and for extra security he slapped a pair of magnetic handcuffs around Jim’s wrists. He wasn't taking any risks.

It was certainly ironic that he was deathly afraid of riding in these ‘flying tin cans’ and here he was about to pilot one willingly. Thanks to his Academy education, he could at least fly the damn thing and not kill himself too quickly. The first thing he did when he sat down in the pilot’s seat was to send a confirmation comm to the frequency that had been printed on a sign his daughter had been forced to hold in the latest holo he’d been sent. Thirty seconds passed before the comm system chimed with a reply containing coordinates for the exchange.

It had been a while since he had sat in the cockpit of a shuttle but after a few seconds of trying to jog his memory he managed to initiate the startup sequence on his first try. Next he requested clearance to depart from the ship. The moments ticked by anxiously as he waited for permission to leave. Hopefully the crewmember at traffic control wouldn't ask why he was piloting a shuttle while the _Enterprise_ was docked at Starbase 1. 

_“Shuttle 8, you are cleared for departure._ ”

He blew out the breath he had been holding.

“Copy that,” he nudged the control stick to guide the shuttle off its pad and past the outer doors.

The shuttle bay doors were already open with shuttles going back and forth in preparation for the _Enterprise’s_ scheduled departure in two days. 

_“Shuttle 8, you are cleared from_ USS Enterprise _air space.”_

“Copy that,” he replied before cutting off all communications to his shuttle.

There was nothing but black ahead of him. It was going to be a six-hour ride to the rendezvous point based on the autopilot’s calculations. He confirmed the coordinates and sat back in the seat as the engines throttled up and took him into the darkness. 

The long journey gave him ample time to think about what he was doing. He had stunned and kidnapped a Starfleet Captain in the hopes that whoever had his daughter would be true to their word and return her to him once they had Jim. 

_When do criminals ever hold true to their word?_

It was this or they would kill her, and he couldn't risk the slightest chance that they would do that. A parent was not expected to outlive their child. Looking back on that moment inside his quarters, it hadn’t been a hard decision or one that required a lot of thought. It had taken him less than a minute to decide that he was going to do whatever it took to get Joanna back even if it meant delivering Jim, his best friend and captain, to them himself. He was an adult and would have to handle the consequences, but his daughter's life was on the line. 

His data pad chirped to alert him that Jim was cycling towards consciousness interrupted his musings. With Jim’s wonky system he couldn’t give the man anything more than a short acting sedative, meaning he’d need another dose before they got to the coordinates to make sure he stayed down. He'd be out a daughter and a best friend if he killed him due to his own stupidity. Jim had begun to stir by the time he’d pulled out the hypo and made his way to the main cabin. 

"Bones," Jim puffed groggily. 

He didn’t hesitate to bring the hypo up to Jim’s carotid artery and inject its contents; Jim was back under in seconds. 

_It’s better this way._

He went back to the flight deck and shut the door to the cabin. The holos of his daughter were constantly up on his data pad so it was easy to tab them to the front. The first holo had been sent in the third message from the kidnappers as proof that they had her; he had ignored the first two until he got a comm from his ex-wife via the Georgia SBI. There were tear tracks through the dirt and grime that covered her face. She didn’t appear to be hurt anywhere but her expression was one of pure terror. The poor girl didn’t know why she had been taken, hell even he didn’t know why other than that they wanted Jim for some reason. Just thinking about why they wanted him was threatening to turn his blood into ice.

The second holo was the most recent one; it was of her holding a piece of actual paper with a comm frequency printed out. That message had instructed him to notify them when he had Jim and they would send coordinates for the swap. Waiting for the unknown was exhausting. He was bone tired but his mind refused him any opportunity to rest, his daughter's life depended on him not fucking this up.

The navigation system finally pinged to alert him that they were thirty minutes from the given rendezvous point. He gave Jim another dose of the sedatives and strapped himself into the pilot’s seat. The other ship didn’t show up on his telemetry until it was right up next to him. He flipped on the communications system. 

_“Do you have him?”_

McCoy rolled his eyes, “Scan for life signs if you don’t believe me.”

_“We know there are two, but is it him?”_

Well, they had him there, “Yeah it’s him.”

 _“Prepare for docking. We will board your craft.”_

He watched out the side window as the ship, if you could call it a ship since it was only twice the size of his own shuttle, inched closer and closer. There was a metallic thud as their docking arm connected with the shuttle and pulled the two vessels closer together. The light above the hatch turned green and slid open without any prompt from him, they apparently had full control of his shuttle.

Four massive bipedal figures in black, including masks on their faces, boarded his shuttle. He tried to get up from the seat but was shoved back into it with a phaser to his face. 

“Stay down,” a deep voice commanded. 

He acquiesced. The one figure stayed over him while the other three pulled Jim from his seat and dumped him onto the deck. 

“What is wrong with him?” one of the three asked as he nudged the unconscious man with his boot. 

“He’s sedated. I couldn’t risk him trying to escape.” 

“Smart man, Doctor McCoy,” he grabbed Jim by the hair and pulled him up so that his boots were barely scraping against the deck plating.

McCoy winced as they dropped Jim again. It was hard to watch the man take a beating unwillingly. Two of the figures dragged Jim off the shuttle by his arms. There was a thud as Jim’s head connected to the hatch lip between the ships and then Jim completely out of sight from him. 

He waited for his daughter to be brought out to him but she never appeared. The two humanoids still on board began retreating towards their ship before he spoke up in a panic, “W-where’s my daughter? You said you’d trade Jim for her. Where is she?”

“I take my comment back, Doctor McCoy, you had to know we wouldn’t have her with us.”

He rose out of his seat but was met with two phasers pointed at him, “You said—”

“Once we take Kirk back we will release your daughter, we're keeping her for now as an insurance policy.” 

“Is she safe? I want to know!” 

A data pad was shoved in his face. There was a new image of his daughter with fresh tearstains on her face.

“Tell anyone and we’ll send her back to you in pieces, Doctor McCoy.” 

He made it up and out of his seat, but the thug closest to him flipped his phaser around and bashed the butt of it against his temple. He was unconscious before he hit the deck. 

### 

_“Bridge to Commander Spock.”_

Spock excused himself from talking with the Chief Engineer to take the incoming message, “Spock, here.” 

_“Sir, we’ve received orders for deployment.”_

“I am aware that we are scheduled to depart in two days, Lieutenant.”

 _“Yes sir, but these say we are to leave immediately.”_

Spock felt as puzzled as Scotty, who’d been listening in, looked. 

“What’s goin’ on ser?” 

“I will find out at once. Are we able to depart if these orders are authentic?”

Scotty hesitated, “Only for a short run, half of the crew isn’t due back until tomorrow. We're still taking on supplies." 

“Understood, Mister Scott.”

Spock worked through all of the possible scenarios that could lead to their unscheduled departure, and none of them were favorable. It was a quicker trip to the Bridge than usual with a majority of the crew still on leave. It did concern him that Jim was not on the Bridge by the time he arrived. Technically the captain wasn’t due back from his leave yet, but he knew Jim had been on board to oversee preparations for their departure. 

“Where is the Captain?” Spock asked immediately, going to the communications station to read the orders. 

“That’s the problem, sir,” Uhura answered, yielding her seat. 

Their orders were clear, arrest Lt. Commander Leonard H. McCoy, Chief Medical Officer - _USS Enterprise_ for kidnapping Captain James T. Kirk, Commanding Officer - _USS Enterprise_. Spock was certain that a mistake had been made. 

“I’ve authenticated the orders twice, Commander. These are real,” Uhura added knowing what the Vulcan was about to ask. 

He needed more information, “Have all departments make ready for immediate departure and open a channel to Command.”

“Aye sir,” Uhura took her seat and got to work.

“Helm is ready for departure,” Sulu swiveled in his seat.

Chekov came running in through the sliding doors before skidding to a stop at his station, “Nawigation is ready, sir.” He began tapping away furiously at his console. 

“Commander, I have Starfleet,” Uhura announced.

“On the main screen, Lieutenant.” 

The window in front of them morphed from the view of their docking bay at the star base to one of a very unhappy grey-haired admiral. It was Admiral Gretchen Liu, head of JAG. 

“Commander Spock.” 

“Admiral, what is the meaning of this?”

The admiral was very stern, “I’ll overlook the fact that as a member of Starfleet you are not meant to question orders, but to obey them.” 

“If you will confirm for yourself, all departments are reporting ready for departure. I merely wish to have more information as the orders were...lacking.”

“Fine then, we received a confession from Lt. Commander McCoy about kidnapping Captain Kirk and we’ve been unable to locate the captain to prove this false. We do not currently have evidence that disputes McCoy’s confession.”

The wheels in Spock’s mind were turning, “When was this confession received?” 

The admiral looked to her left, “Approximately one and a half hours ago.”

“Why were not we alerted then? As First Officer of this vessel it is my—” 

“I’m aware of your status on the _Enterprise_. Until Kirk can be located you’re promoted to Acting-Captain. Your first orders are to apprehend McCoy and find out what’s going on. Coordinates to his location were included in the first data packet.”

Starfleet didn’t know what was going on either, “Yes ma’am. We will depart shortly.” 

“Liu out,” the signal cut out, returning the image of their mooring bay.

Spock took the Captain’s chair, “Seal all the hatches and retract all moorings.” 

“Hatches are sealed,” Chekov announced.

Sulu tapped away at his console and the large clamps holding the _Enterprise_ to the docking bay released. The ship slipped effortlessly away and turned around, ready for flight. 

“We’ve cleared Space Dock.” 

“Thank you, Mister Sulu. Mister Chekov, lay in a course to the coordinates sent to us.” 

“Aye, aye, Keptin. Course laid in,” the ensign double-checked the course to the given coordinates. 

“Time to the coordinates?” 

“Sewenteen minutes at warp 5.”

“Ready for warp, sir,” Sulu’s hand was already over the lever that would send the ship hurtling into space. 

“Very well, Mister Sulu.”

The helmsman pushed the lever forward and the bow of the ship could be seen extending before the rest of the ship caught up and then the stars whizzed past.

“Time to destination, 16 minutes and 24 seconds.”

“Thank you, Mister Sulu.”

“Captain?” Uhura called out.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he swiveled around in the chair.

“Giotto from Security has sent video footage for you.” 

“On screen,” he ordered and swiveled back to face the main screen. 

The view of the rushing stars morphed into video footage from the shuttle bay. There in the lower right hand corner were the two very recognizable figures of Kirk and McCoy.

“Do we have a better angle for this section?” 

“No sir, this was the only one that caught anything.” 

“Go back to when they enter.” 

The video rushed backwards until the two men disappeared from the frames and then it began playing at a normal speed. Jim seemed to be in good spirits as he followed McCoy over to a shuttle. The doctor was clearly on edge but the captain continued to animate whatever he was saying with wild gestures. Things turned sour the moment Jim looked over at McCoy who had pulled out a phaser hidden in the small of his back. Jim stilled immediately. He took a few steps towards the doctor but stopped when McCoy switched the safety off his weapon. 

The Bridge crew watched silently as their captain was held at phase point by their CMO. Jim’s hands went up and he could be seen to be talking slowly. There was no audio to go with the video but they could easily guess that he was trying to talk his best friend out of shooting him. None of them were prepared for the precise moment McCoy fired and Jim hit the deck. Spock was the only one who did not flinch. They saw McCoy bend down to check Jim’s pulse before dragging him into the shuttle and out of the view of the camera. 

Uhura had covered her mouth with her hands in shock and everyone else turned to look at Spock in the Captain’s chair. The Vulcan continued to replay the images in his head, trying to determine a logical explanation for what everyone just saw. 

“Do we know the phaser setting?” an ensign at the tactical station asked. 

No one had thought that it would’ve been anything other than ‘stun’ until the ensign had said something. With that question the mood darkened considerably. There were flashes of rage in some crewmembers’ eyes and grief in the others. The person they had trusted to heal them had shot their captain. 

Spock saw this and immediately tried to institute some form of damage control, “It is unlikely that Doctor McCoy killed Captain Kirk. If the goal was to kill him, then there was no need for the shuttle or a phaser. As we all know, his skill with a hypospray is unparalleled."

“Arrival in forty seconds!” Sulu braced himself for any action that might await them when they dropped out of warp. 

Everyone was anticipating more than the lone shuttle that drifted aimlessly through the black.

“Scan for life signs,” Spock ordered, his grip on the armrests tightening ever so slightly.

“One life sign, human,” a technician sitting at the science station replied. 

“What is the condition of the shuttle?” he tabbed the controls on his chair to enlarge the image on the view screen.

There was significant weapons damage to the engine pods at the back of the shuttle. 

“Engines are down, but life support is functional,” the tech added. 

“Launch a shuttle and have it towed back to the shuttle bay. Send for the master-at-arms and a security team to meet the shuttle.” 

“Aye sir,” Uhura swiveled to her station to send out the orders. 

### 

Spock and Giotto waited for the shuttle to be nudged towards its docking pad before a crane grabbed it and set it down with a soft thud. The security team surrounded the hatch with their phasers drawn.

“Set phasers to stun,” Spock ordered as he switched over his own weapon to the non-lethal setting. 

The phasers held by the security team switched from red to blue. 

Giotto stepped up to the shuttle’s hatch and banged on the door three times. The door didn’t open so he nodded to one of his teammates who went to work on the outer control panel next to the hatch. 

“Ready, sir,” the crewmate held his finger over a button. 

“Open it,” Giotto’s grip on his phaser tightened. 

The hatch opened with a soft hiss. There facing them was McCoy sitting in a seat along the cabin’s wall with his head in his hands. 

“Put your hands up, McCoy,” Giotto ordered, stepping up to the doorway.

Spock was surprised at the doctor’s appearance. There was a slowly leaking gash along his temple, but it was his eyes that were the most disturbing. They were red and filled with a violent mixture of rage and grief. 

McCoy looked at Giotto who had entered the shuttle and held the phaser at him. He was surprisingly used to being held at phaser point today.

“Doctor McCoy, please put your hands up.” 

McCoy nodded and lifted up his empty hands. 

“I want you to slowly stand up and exit the shuttle with your hands where we can see them,” Giotto backed away so the man could exit. 

McCoy rose from the seat and kept his hands up as ordered as he left the shuttle. He knew what was coming next so he automatically dropped to his knees and placed his hands behind his head. The security team swarmed on him, simultaneously cuffing his hands and forcing him down on the deck as they searched him for weapons. He remained silent as Giotto pulled the phaser from the small of his back. Once they were satisfied he was secure they pulled him back to his feet so that he was eye to eye with Spock.

“Doctor McCoy, as Captain of this Federation vessel, I hear by arrest you. You have the right not to incriminate yourself upon questioning. Anything you say may be used against you in legal proceedings. You have the right to legal counsel, and should you request it, legal counsel will be appointed to you at no personal cost. Do you understand these rights?” 

“Yes.” 

###

Jim awoke with a groan. He really needed to stop taking phaser blasts to the chest. The muscles were still tight and the nerve endings were still firing the wrong signals to his sluggish brain. McCoy must've drugged him after stunning him. He had to give it to the doctor for taking him out with one shot and being able to keep him down. 

His first attempt to open his eyes failed as he was met with nauseating double vision and clamped them shut. Now that he focused on the multiple aches, there was a migraine-inducing lump on the back of his head. He didn't remember McCoy bashing his head. He tried to open his eyes again, and this time the double vision slowly morphed into a wobbly single image. It was an image of the dankest and grimiest ceiling he had ever laid eyes on, and considering the dives he'd been in that was an impressive feat. He set his hands to his side to feel that the floor was just as gross as the ceiling, and painfully pushed himself upright. A wave of vertigo rushed over him and it took a few deep breaths to quell the stomach contents that threatened to return. 

Once his breakfast stopped trying to make an exit, he took another look at his surroundings. He was definitely in a prison cell with three walls of bars and a back wall of solid metal. The concussion and sedatives were getting to him; he nearly missed the small figure cowered in the corner behind the metal slab jutting out of the wall. 

"Hello?" 

The figure shivered but didn't look up and kept their face hidden in their arms. 

"I definitely see you back there," he slowly turned around so he was facing the back corner. 

Again the figure didn't move. Jim took in the person's appearance; it was definitely a female child. One ballet flat was missing revealing shredded tights dangling over a swollen foot. He followed the dirty clothes all the way up to the messy braid. His heart sank into his rolling stomach. 

"I'm not going to hurt you, Joanna."

The girl cowered back further into the corner at the sound of her name, still refusing to look up. 

"Joanna, I'm going to help you. It's me, Uncle Jim." 

Cautiously the girl raised her head enough to peak over the slab. Every McCoy he'd ever met had those exact same hazel eyes. 

"Are you really here?" her whisper was barely inaudible. 

"Yes ma'am. Your knight in shining armor is here to rescue you."

Fresh tears streaked down the girl's cheeks, "I want my daddy."

Jim's muddled brain tried to come up with a quick response, "Your daddy sent me here to come get you." 

"They said they would kill him if I didn't behave." 

Jim scooted towards the girl and she visibly flinched at the movement, "I promise you that he's still alive. I saw him a few hours ago." 

He wasn't going to say that the man had been pointing a phaser at his chest. 

"Are you hurt anywhere, Joanna?" 

"My foot hurts. I lost a shoe." 

Jim slowly pushed himself to his feet. His legs were as unsteady and as wobbly as his vision. He managed to make it to the girl by using the metal slab; he guessed it was supposed to be a cot, to steady his gait for the three steps it took to reach her. He offered a hand to the child. Joanna hesitated, but ultimately set her small hand in his larger one. Between his dizziness and her injured foot they managed to clumsily shuffle to the slab and sit down.

Jim delicately took the injured limb into his hands, "Did you step on glass?"

Joanna nodded as he prodded the tender flesh. 

"Well, I don't feel any glass here but I need to wrap it up. We can't have you walking on this dirty floor. Your dad will kill me if I don't return you in pristine condition." Jim explained as he shed his gold shirt and ripped a strip of fabric from the hem. He managed to wrap the foot with only a few winces from the little girl. "Better?" 

Joanna flung her arms around her Uncle Jim's neck. He could feel the girl shivering in his embrace. 

"You're going to be okay, Joanna," he said with a soothing hand at her back. 

He waited for Joanna to break away from the hug before sliding the gold shirt over her head for extra warmth. The sleeves were way too long for her arms but a few rolls of the cuffs solved the problem. 

"Okay, I need you to be brave for me now," he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. "Can you do that for me?" 

He felt her nod under his hand.

"Good. I need you to tell me everything that's happened to you so far. How many men took you? Were they human? How long did you travel? What kind of ship was it?" 

Jim knew exactly what had happened by the time Joanna finished recounting the events over the last few days. She had been on her way home from school when someone grabbed her right off the street and threw her into a hovervan. It took a long time to reach a field where a small shuttle was waiting for them. There she saw four other figures, most likely human, in all black before being blindfolded. She thought they changed ships two more times before ending up here. So far they had only threatened her and made her hold up signs in photos to send to her dad. They hadn't physically harmed her, and were giving her decent food and water several times a day. As for where they were, she had no clue. Joanna couldn't tell if they had been at warp or not so there was no telling where they were. 

"You're very brave, Joanna." 

"Why did they take me?" she clung to Jim after she finished her story. 

"I don't know." 

He did know but he decided that she didn’t need to know that he was the true target. Despite everything that had happened to her, the girl had been cared for. If she had been the target they would've killed her a long time ago instead of using her as leverage to get to him. Whoever was behind this had clearly done their homework. Any brute attack on him personally was liable to fail. It was a smart play to have the person closest to him take care of everything and for that to happen the man needed the proper motivation. His main priority was to keep Joanna safe and return her, unharmed, to her father. He suspected that things were not going to go well for him given the effort to whoever had gone through to get to him. 

“I want to go home,” fresh tears pooled in the girl’s hazel eyes. 

Jim immediately wiped them away with his thumbs, “None of that now. I know it’s scary, but we’re going to get out of here. You have to believe me. I'm going to keep you safe. Do you trust me?" 

Joanna nodded hesitantly, “Yes, Uncle Jim.”

“Now, let’s see how we can get out of here? Once we do, I’ll take you to a super snazzy ice cream parlor in New York City! I'll buy you the biggest sundae they have and you'll eat it with a golden spoon." 

Joanna rolled her eyes, “You know my dad won’t like that.” 

“Who said he’s joining us?” Jim winked. 

###

“You have been charged with kidnapping a Starfleet officer in addition to several theft charges for taking the shuttle, Doctor McCoy. Do you understand the severity of these charges?” the processing officer asked the man cuffed to the table. 

“Yes,” the disheveled man answered without looking up to him or the camera recording his replies. 

"In accordance with the Starfleet Code of Military Justice you are to be held here until your scheduled court martial, do you understand?" 

"Yes."

"Very well, follow me to processing," the officer disengaged the locks keeping the handcuffs secured to the table. 

Processing into North Island Detention Center had been degrading. They made him strip off his clothes and submit to an embarrassingly thorough search before being branded with a tracking bracelet and ushered into a solitary cell in prison issue coveralls. There was nothing in the cell, just a plastic slab with rounded edges and a commode bolted to the walls. He had to admit it was better that he was alone; the thought of joining the general population was truly horrifying. 

Now here he was sitting on a plastic slab in a prison where he was sure to spend the rest of his days, without his daughter or his best friend, staring at his white slip-on shoes. It was stupid of him to have hoped the kidnappers would have stayed true to their word and released his daughter once they had Jim. It was a fool’s hope. In all likelihood his daughter was already dead and Jim was close to following her if not already dead too. He’d managed to wipe out his entire life in one fail swoop.

All he had now was to spend the rest of his life paying for his failures. Not the legal ones, the ones where you get your daughter killed and send your best friend to die next to her. It set him on edge to think that it only took a matter of seconds for him to seal Jim’s fate after all that he had done for him in the past. 

He looked around his sparse accommodations. Apparently the prison system had thought of everything. They had taken away anything that he could break into a sharp object and slit his wrists with, they gave him shoes without laces, and there were no linens or anything to tie together. He didn’t feel suicidal but they clearly weren't going to risk it. It was almost a shame that society had done away with capital punishment in the 2100’s; he was going to rot in prison with his inner demons torturing him for the rest of his life. 

A banging on his cell door interrupted the dark path his mind currently traveled, “McCoy, legal counsel is requesting to meet with you.” 

He had waived his rights for legal counsel but one must have been sent anyways. 

“I don’t want a lawyer.” 

“Doctor McCoy, Spock sent me!” the lawyer cried out over the guard’s shoulder. 

“I still don’t want to talk to you,” he wished she would go away. 

“I’m not leaving until I talk to you. I brought a novel, I can sit here all day.” 

“I hope it’s a good one,” he grumbled. 

“It’s _Peter Pan_.” 

If he’d eaten the slop that had been served to him on a foam tray he would’ve thrown it right back up. It is... _was_...Jim’s favorite book. Of course it had been Jim’s favorite, the man was practically a child who wanted nothing more than to not grow up. It was practically his biography. 

“Do I have your attention now, Doctor?” she knew exactly how to twist his arm and she pushed the guard out of the way to face the unit's camera. 

“What do you want? I’ve already sent my confession to JAG.”

“I’m Lieutenant Romina Hill from JAG. Did you admit to these crimes?” the lawyer was already irritated with the man’s apparent lack of self-preservation. 

“Yes, I did and you already know it. I stunned Captain Kirk in the chest and took him from the _Enterprise_ via shuttle that I stole. I explained that all in what I sent to JAG.” 

“About that, who took him from the shuttle? I know whoever it was shot out your engines and bashed you in the head.” 

He said nothing. 

“Doctor?” 

Again, he didn’t utter a word.

Hill was fed up, “Why did you kidnap Captain Kirk?” 

The doctor still refused to answer and continued to stare at his shoes. The lawyer was puzzled by this part. The man had no qualms about confessing to his crimes but refused to give a motive. The answer was obvious. 

“Are you being coerced, Doctor McCoy? Is someone holding something against you? If there is I need to know, this can help your legal situation.” 

The people sending the photos of his daughter made it quite clear that any involvement from the authorities would result in his child’s immediate execution. McCoy rose up to look into the camera, “No.” 

“Then why did you do it, Doctor?” Hill snapped.

“I stunned Captain Kirk in the chest and took him from the _Enterprise_ via shuttle that I stole.” 

“That’s not the question I asked, Doctor. Was it credits? Did they threaten you or your family?” 

He looked back down to the floor. 

The woman had enough, “Call me, Doctor McCoy, when you feel like trying to save yourself _and_ your captain,” she stormed off from the view screen. 

Hill didn’t wait to see him close his eyes nor the tear that slipped through his lashes. She stormed her way out of the detention facility in obvious frustration. 

“What did he say?” Spock was waiting for her inside a hovercar in the parking lot of the detention facility. 

“He’s confessing to the crimes alright,” she got into the vehicle. 

“Is he still refusing to explain his motives?” Spock powered up the car. 

“Yes he is. I’m pretty sure he’s still being coerced, but he won’t give anyone up. It’s likely to assume that they’re holding someone over his head. Does he have any family, a spouse or children?”

“That is the likely assumption given the Doctor’s normally pacifistic nature,” Spock steered the car onto the interstate. “He does have an ex-wife and a daughter from that marriage.”

“We should start with them. Even though solitary confinement is standard procedure for processing for new detainees, I’ve requested that it be extended so that he is not introduced into the general population while he waits for his hearing.” 

Spock tabbed open the hands free communication system built into the car, “Spock to Uhura.”

 _“Uhura here, sir.”_

“Doctor McCoy’s lawyer and myself are certain that he is under some form of duress. I need you to look through his communiqués and find out the cause. You’ll need my access code, bravo-six-echo-gamma-gamma-four.”

 _“Aye, sir._ ” 

“Lieutenant, inform only me if you find anything.” 

_“Aye, sir.”_

“Spock, out.” 

“This is fishy,” Hill commented as they passed by through the sun-kissed California coastline. 

“Indeed.” 

“Good call on _Peter Pan_. It at least got his attention.” 

“I know that Leonard gave Jim an illustrated copy for his birthday last year.” 

“On real paper?”

“Yes, it was on paper.” 

“Wow, they must be really good friends.” 

“It is unquantifiable.” 

### 

“James Tiberius Kirk, fancy seeing you here.” 

A chunk of solid ice dropped into his stomach. Jim looked up from where he was holding Joanna in his arms and instinctively tightened them around the girl. There on the other side of the bars was someone he’d never thought he’d see again, especially after their last encounter. The last time he had seen that vile woman was after a court hearing where she was ordered to be admitted to a mental institution for treatment of hallucinations about her father after murdering several people, including her father. 

“Lenore. I can’t say that it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Jim seethed. 

The once platinum blonde’s hair was now a dark brown and there was evidence of some ‘elective reconstruction’ in some of her features, but there was no denying who the woman was. Gut wrenching memories of something he continually struggled to keep buried and out of the way were threatening to bubble up and rip down what meager defenses he had against them. He vowed to himself to stay in control of his emotions at all costs; he had to for Joanna. 

“C’mon, James, you should be happy that I found you! It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” she ran a manicured finger across the bars. 

“No offense, but I thought you were locked in the loony bin.” 

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m such a good actress.” 

She had probably acted like she’d gotten her shit back together so they would let her go all while planning some form of revenge on him. This was something he never anticipated. 

“So I guess you finally convinced the shrinks you were only a _tiny_ bit bat shit crazy?” he held his thumb and index finger a centimeter apart to emphasize his point. 

Lenore smirked at her own ingenuity of escape, “Yeah, I guess Daddy taught me well.” 

Her father was one of the few people in the entire galaxy he'd been happy to see dead. The man’s last selfless act had been nowhere close enough to atone for the genocide he orchestrated on Tarsus IV. The last of his extended family had been slaughtered like cattle in the city square while he had been left to starve and fend for himself. All while clinging to the hope that Starfleet would rescue him and the other children he managed to get to safety. Taking care of the remaining kids had been his only reason for survival during those dismal months, and it was his compassion for them that had led to his capture and torture at Kodos's own hands. Torture that had left him an emaciated and pathetic shell of the child he used to be that took months in a hospital and a decade to overcome. 

“This is between you and me now, let Joanna go back to her father.” 

“Not yet, sweetie. I’m enjoying watching the vids streaming from Terra about how a senior officer on the Fleet’s flagship kidnapped his own commanding officer, the ‘Hero of the Federation’ and ‘Kelvin Baby’. I swear the holo industry couldn’t make up anything better. You think I can get vid rights to this after we’re done here?” 

“Lenore,” he ground out. 

“Don’t worry, James. She was merely the tool to get to you. I knew you’d never come here willingly and what better way to rub salt in the wound than to have McCoy deliver you. Of course he needed a bit of motivation there, which is where she became useful. As long as you play nicely I won’t hurt the little brat.” 

She confirmed his suspicions. 

“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of opportunity to kill me, clearly you’ve been watching me. So why go through so much hassle rather than gunning me down in the streets of San Francisco or some other world? Honestly, you could have wiped me out with some peanut dust in my food and no one would’ve suspected a thing.” 

“Where’s the fun in that, James? Any thug can kill, but it takes passion to torture and I like to play with my food before I eat it,” the murderess sneered menacingly. 

“Sometimes food can bite back.” 

“Come now, James, don’t you think this conversation is not suited for little girls’ ears?” she motioned to one of the figures in black behind her to unlock the cell. "I think we should finish this conversation elsewhere." 

It was a combination of a biometric and physical key lock. He wasn’t going to get either of the things he needed willingly to open up the cell if they were to escape any time soon. Joanna was clinging to him fiercely as he stood up.

“Be brave, Joanna,” he set the girl on the spot on the slab he just vacated. "I'll come back." 

The girl looked like she was about to start crying but a wink from her favorite uncle stopped any tears before they were shed. 

“Good boy, James,” two figures grabbed Jim by the arms and steered him into the hallway behind Lenore. 

The room he was led to contained only a single chair. 

“I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s very 21st century horror.” 

He was shoved into the chair none too gently and his hands were locked into cuffs on the back of the chair. Whatever they were about to do to him, he had to stay strong for Joanna.

“Your service is a little lacking, but I guess you get what you pay for?” 

That comment earned him a slap across the face. The woman’s sharp nails tore through his flesh way too easily for his liking. There was a deeper burn coming from the wounds, something extra was in her nail polish. 

“So I’m guessing that this is some sort of payback for your father’s death?” he eyed her as she buffed her nails on her pant leg. 

“You always were the brightest kid at the colony. My father saw your potential and spared your life.” 

“Need I remind you that you killed your own father?” he sneered. 

“Need I remind you, _James_ , that I was aiming for you before he jumped in the way?” 

“Oh, so this is a ‘finish what I started’ kind of thing?” 

That comment earned him a metal bar to the solar plexus from one of the big goons. 

“I’m gonna say that I got that one right,” he said after regaining control of his breathing. 

That earned him a punch to the jaw. That one hurt and he was definitely seeing stars. It probably didn’t help that he was already concussed. He could feel the blood pooling in his mouth so he spat it at Lenore’s black boots. 

The beating continued mercilessly until he was mere moments away from passing out despite a valiant attempt to keep it together. His left eye had swollen shut and his body was littered with countless bruises. He was reasonably certain that at least two ribs were broken with another four cracked. It was also likely that his humerus was broken as well. That had been blindingly painful and he was pretty sure he actually lost consciousness there for a bit. 

Lenore had just stood there and watched the whole thing with a sick look in her eye, “Well, it doesn’t look like James wants to play anymore today. We’ll have to continue this later, sweetie.” The woman had the audacity to fake pout.

Jim was going to strangle the ever-loving life out of her when he got his hands around her scrawny neck. Now he had no strength to do anything other than let the burly goons drag him back to the cell. He winced as Joanna shrieked when he was thrown to the ground at her feet. This was not doing a very good job of rescuing her. 

The cell door shut with an ominous clang and Lenore ran her hands along the bars as she left. Jim immediately turned to his side and threw up what bile he was able to expel. He groaned and lay down on his back once he was done. Thanks to the chair it was the only area with the least pain.

“Uncle Jim?” Joanna asked warily. 

“I’m okay, Joanna, I promise,” he could feel the girl stare at his battered body. 

“You don’t look okay.” 

_She’s just like her father._

“Did they hurt you while I was gone?” 

“No. No one was here until they came back with you.” 

Jim nodded, “Good.” 

He lethargically closed his good eye; the other one was completely swollen shut by now. 

“Is anything broken?” Joanna cautiously approached Jim. 

“Don’t worry about me, Joanna.” 

She found the only spot that wasn’t bloodied and bruised on his forehead and laid a gentle hand there. Jim opened his eye to see a pair of familiar hazel ones scanning him over. She ripped more of Jim’s gold shirt off at the bottom and folded it neatly. There was a cup of water hidden under the metal slab and she scurried over to retrieve it. 

“Joanna, what are you doing?” Jim eyed the girl as she came back to his side and knelt down next to him. 

Wordlessly, she dipped the cloth in the water and began washing away the blood from Jim’s face. 

“Joanna, I can do this myself,” he made a clumsy grab at her hand which she easily deflected. 

“Daddy’s gonna kill you,” she continued. 

“Don’t I know it,” he yielded to the girl’s soothing hands as they cleaned the blood off his face and laid the wet cloth over his swollen eye.

### 

“How is he?” Uhura asked as Spock strode onto the Bridge. 

They had returned to the dock immediately after sending McCoy off on a shuttle full of security personnel. In that time the mood on the ship had soured considerably with their captain missing and their CMO taken away in handcuffs. The ship was still under preparations for their original departure date despite the loss of two of her senior officers. 

“Do you have anything yet?” Spock went directly to the communications station. 

“Yes, sir,” Uhura brought up the messages that had been sent to McCoy. “They have his daughter, Joanna. He actually hid these comms pretty well given how he usually screams at the tech guys when his computer terminal is on the fritz.” 

Spock tabbed through the messages. It was hard to control the rage and sadness that flooded through him at the sight of McCoy’s daughter with tears down her face. 

“His daughter is being held to ensure his compliance.” 

“We have to tell Starfleet about this!” Uhura grimaced as Spock tabbed to another image of the girl she’d taught how to braid her hair. 

"Negative, Lieutenant." 

Uhura was shocked, "But, sir—“ 

"Taking into account that the kidnappers are explicit in their messages regarding notification of the authorities, we will be putting Doctor McCoy's daughter and the Captain in peril if we alert them. We must remain undiscovered if a rescue mission is to be successful." 

"We can't leave Leonard in jail!"

"That is precisely where he will remain. Despite being under duress he committed several severe crimes and must be held accountable for his actions. The attorney has seen to it that he will not be introduced into the general population for his safety." 

Uhura nodded, Vulcan Logic was always correct. She brought up the security feed to look at it again even though she had every frame memorized. The images started as they always had, with the captain and McCoy coming into view from the lower right hand corner and stopping in front of the shuttle’s open hatch. Jim was in good spirits while the doctor was on edge. It was thirty four seconds after they came into view that McCoy pulled his phaser out. Another forty-seven seconds passed with Jim pleading at the doctor with his hands up. Two seconds from the point McCoy fired until Jim was on the deck. Six seconds for McCoy to reach Jim and check his pulse. Seventy three seconds until Jim was dragged out of sight on the shuttle. One hundred and sixty two seconds, 2.7 minutes, and everything had changed. 

Uhura rewound the feed and it started to replay again. At the top of the frame was something she’d missed before, the time stamp on the images. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She replayed the footage again. 

_08:32:47 at the start._

She waited for the ordeal to finish and looked at the time stamp.

_08:35:57 at the end._

The lieutenant was puzzled, there were approximately twenty eight seconds unaccounted. She enlarged the images as much as she could and cued it to right before McCoy bent down to check Jim’s pulse. The difference was minuscule, but it was there. There was a slight shift in his arm position about four seconds into the video and the time stamp barely flickered to the new number. Whoever edited this was good. 

“Spock! I found something!” she whipped around in her chair. 

The Acting Captain had been over at a tactical station conversing with a technician working on the console. 

“Yes, Lieutenant Uhura?” he swiftly walked over. 

“Watch!” she cued up the video, playing it a normal speed. 

“Yes, I have seen this multiple times.” 

“No. Watch closely,” she rewound the video to the scene right before Jim was shot, playing it at a fourth of the regular speed. 

The editing was unmistakable while playing at a much slower speed, the shift in McCoy’s arm position was much more pronounced. 

“This has been tampered with.” 

Uhura was proud of herself, “By someone who knew what he or she were doing.” 

“Assemble the command crew immediately and transfer this video to the Ready Room,” Spock ordered. 

“Aye, sir,” Uhura spun around to her console to follow her orders. 

### 

The department heads, which now included M’Benga, were seated silently around the long table in the Ready Room. Spock stood as rigid as ever at the head of the table in Jim’s usual spot. He nodded to Uhura and she sent the security footage to all of the screens around the table. 

“I know many of you have seen the security footage of the Captain’s kidnapping, but Lieutenant Uhura has discovered something new.” 

Spock deferred to Uhura as he sat down in front of his own screen. 

Uhura opened up the video controls on her screen, “It’s hard to see when the video is playing at the regular speed but it’s clear when you slow down the frames that this was tampered with.” 

Everyone around the table was studying the images intensely. Spock watched his crew’s faces as they all saw it. The barely perceptible shift was clear with the slower speed. 

“Oi, there’s missin’ footage,” Scotty almost had his nose pressed to the screen. 

“There’s twenty-five-ish seconds missing,” Sulu added. 

“Twenty eight, to be exact,” Spock corrected. 

“Can we restore the lost footage?” M’Benga thumbed the controls on his screen. 

Uhura spoke up, “I’ve tried extracting the files, but someone’s done a really thorough job of erasing the data from the ship’s memory drives.” 

“Deleted files are never truly erased,” Sulu added. 

“Not to insult Doctor McCoy’s intelligence, but this seems above his ability,” Giotto said without looking up from his own screen. 

“That is the point,” Spock stated the obvious. “Someone else involved has been aboard this ship.”

“That could be anyone!” Scotty exclaimed. “We’re gettin’ ready to leave. There’ve been hundreds of extra people prancin’ about the place.” 

Giotto pinched the bridge of his nose, “Mister Scott is right, everyone coming aboard is logged but that number is in the hundreds. I can start a cross check with their profiles but we’d also have to include the crew. It could be anyone at this point.” 

“Who’s even capable of this? That should narrow it down some,” Uhura offered. 

Spock looked around the table, the ability to erase the data almost completely narrowed down the search window considerably. Many of the people at the table could erase the footage from the recent files, but to erase it from the hard disks without leaving a trace and to edit the footage so that the missing data was barely noticeable took even more skill. A twitch coming from the navigation officer’s direction caught his attention. The young man was breathing more shallow than normal and there were tiny beads of sweat underneath the curls at the top of his forehead. 

“Ensign Chekov, are you well?” Spock’s eyebrow arched. 

“Yes-s, sir,” Chekov stammered slightly. 

Everyone looked up from his or her screens to look at the young officer. He was in a full-blown sweat now that everyone’s attention was on him. 

“Is there something you would like to tell us, Ensign?” 

“No, sir.” 

“If you know something you need to tell us, laddie!” Scotty sprang out of his seat. 

“I know nothing,” Chekov hesitantly met the chief engineer’s eyes. 

“Pavel,” Uhura spoke softly. 

He knew his ruse was up; he never should have agreed to this. 

“What do you know?” Sulu asked. 

Chekov took a deep breath to calm his nerves, “The keptin made me swear not to tell anyone anything.” 

### 

"Uncle Jim! Uncle Jim, wake up!" 

He really didn't want to wake up; it was if he'd gone ten rounds with a Klingon. 

"They're coming, Uncle Jim!" Joanna vigorously shook the man curled up on the floor. 

Jim's good eye was instantly open and searching around, "Are you okay?" 

"Yes, Uncle Jim. You fell asleep on me," Joanna moved so she was directly over him. 

" 'm sorry," he tried to push himself up but failed miserably and collapsed at the effort. 

Hazel eyes were suddenly serious, "Uncle Jim?" 

"I'm good, just need a minute," he managed to make it to a sitting position. 

Neither his arm nor his ribs appreciated the movement and made their displeasure abundantly clear. 

_Bones is definitely going to kill me if Lenore doesn't first._

"I'm sorry you're here because of me," the child's voice was barely audible. 

Jim reached out and grabbed one of Joanna's hands from her lap, "Don’t think that. I'm the one she wants. She used you to get to me." 

"How do you know her?" 

The good eye closed, allowing its owner the moments he needed to shove the memories threatening to resurface down, "It's a very sad story."

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, I understand." 

The blue eye locked onto hazel ones, "One day, I promise." 

Joanna didn't have time to reply, the footsteps were close and Jim pulled her behind him. 

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Lenore ran her nails across the bars. 

"We were just wishing we had some tea and snacks," Jim glared as menacingly as he could with one eye. 

"A tea party is a great idea! Let's take it back to my place," she nodded to the two burly thugs that accompanied her. 

The cell door was wrenched open and Jim was pulled roughly by his arms. 

"Be brave, I'll be back soon," Jim reassured the girl who was left stunned in the middle of the cell. 

He didn't get her reassurances that she was going to be brave before he was dragged to what he dubbed the 'torture chamber' from the previous days. Again he was cuffed to the lone chair in the dingy room. 

"This is such a cozy spot for tea," he earned a hand to his mouth for that comment. 

"I have to say, you've gotten a bit sassier than I remember," Lenore circled the chair. 

"What can I say? Surviving a genocide will do that to a person." 

"My father did what was necessary to ensure the colony's survival." 

"Your _father_ slaughtered half of the colony in the town square." 

He couldn't stop the images of rivers of red trickling into the city's runoff grates from flashing in front of his eyes. The unmistakable metallic tang of blood had permeated his clothing and lingered for days around the city. It took nearly two weeks for the mass graves to be dug and the bodies disposed of. The memory alone was enough to make him nauseous. 

His blue eye turned to ice, "Did you even see what he'd done? Did you see the mass graves where everyone was left to rot?" 

"You are alive because of him. Because there was enough food for you to eat." 

The rage inside of him erupted all at once, fueling his battered body with enough adrenaline to rip the cuffs from the chair and lunge at the vile woman in front of him. He managed to get his manacled hands around her porcelain neck before he received a swift kick to his left kidney and was pulled away. A thick chain was thrown over one of the ceiling struts and his cuffed hands were bound to the metal hook at one end. One of the goons pulled hard on the other end and he was lifted off his feet. He couldn't stop the cry of pain from escaping as his entire weight pulled the metal cuffs into the flesh at his wrists and the broken bones in his arm pulled. 

"By the end of this you're going to wish you had died in that shit hole my father dragged me to," Lenore spat. 

He couldn't see what she had been handed before being spun around on the hook. His flesh yielded with the movement and warm blood started to trickle down his arms. Something light and metallic scraped the floor behind him. The whooshing sound of leather and metal flying through the air made it to his ears before the blinding agony that tore through his back. Shirt fabric and skin ripped effortlessly under the whip's momentum. 

A guttural scream echoed throughout the room. It took his brain nearly thirty seconds to realize that the noise had come from him. His back was on fire. This pain was coming from deeper inside the now freely bleeding wounds raking from his shoulder to the opposite side of his waist. It was taking everything he had to breathe through the unimaginable agony that seared its way through him. 

"You run across some of the coolest stuff traveling the galaxies. No doubt you've noticed there's a little something extra..." 

_Poison._

"This nifty compound came from Latara, surprisingly, from a platypus-like creature. It's one of the few mammals that can produce venom. Now don't worry, it's not lethal, but it has the unique ability to bind to human pain receptors and amplify the signals they receive. The guy I killed for it said that it would make a paper cut feel like a hot laser sliding through your finger."

"Sounds about right," he heaved. 

"Hmmm, I'm glad this works like he said. See, I didn't test it before I bought it...I know, stupid mistake. You never buy hovercars without a test drive first, right?"

Jim couldn't focus on anything other than the rapid nerve signals firing in his brain. His heart galloped in his chest. 

"James?" 

He closed his good eye, hoping that he could block out everything. 

"Make sure you pay attention to what I say now." 

He heard the wind up for another strike and tensed in response. The metal barbs sliced through his bunched muscles like a hot knife through butter. He wasn't going to give the woman the satisfaction of hearing another scream from him. Instead he bit completely through his lip trying to contain his body's protest. 

"No scream on that one?" 

Two more strikes ripped open his skin in rapid succession before his brain could take no more and he blacked out. 

Lenore couldn't help but frown at the dead weight swinging on the hook, "Well shit, that didn't last nearly as long as I hoped." 

She gave Jim a push and watched him swing back and forth by his arms. She nodded to the man holding the chain and he let go. The chain whipped over the strut, dropping its load onto the ground in a boneless heap. Jim didn't move when she toed his head with her boot. 

"Take him back," she ordered with a flick of her wrist.

The woman couldn't help but admire her handiwork of crisscrossing gashes stretching across Jim's back as he was drug out of the room by his arms. He was going to be begging for the same mercy her father had shown the chosen citizens after she was done with him. Had they all been spared, everyone would’ve died long before help arrived. 

Joanna stood defiantly as heavy footsteps neared the cell. She told Jim that she was going to be brave. However all of her hopes of bravery were extinguished when she saw the state her Uncle Jim was in. He hung lifelessly by his arms between the two thugs. She didn't see why until she saw his back after they threw him into the cell. Dozens of angry red and bleeding gashes crossed his back from his neck down to the band of his pants. The parts of his black shirt that hadn't been gouged into the wounds were left in sticky tatters hanging loosely around him. 

If she was going to be of any help, she had to act quickly. It was time to be brave. 

"I'm thirsty, " she said quickly to the men locking the heavy iron door. 

They looked at each other before one stalked off angrily. She waited for the other man to return and shove a canteen through the bars before leaving her alone with Jim. Their footsteps were silent and she dashed to the man's side. She pushed him onto his side. A hand to his chest confirmed that he was still alive and breathing, albeit shallowly. The fabric of his tattered shirt tore easily under her fingers as she freed him from the rest of the material. 

She quickly wet the square of Jim's command shirt she had saved in her dress pocket. Jim hissed in pain the microsecond the fabric made contact with one of the gashes. He bucked under her small hands trying to clean the wounds. 

"Uncle Jim?" she leaned over his shoulder to see if he was awake. 

The good blue eye was glassy and unfocused. 

"Uncle Jim, I'm going to clean these out the best I can. There are bits of shirt in these. I promise to be quick," she explained with a calming hand on his cheek. 

The man gave no indication that he heard what she said let alone processed it. Her small fingers were useful for grabbing the small bits of fabric sticking out of some of the gruesome wounds. The strips of black fabric came out sticky with blood and dropped to the floor next to her with a wet splat. Jim shook uncontrollably with the removal of each piece. Some were too deep for her to easily reach so those would have to stay for now. Her ministrations had loosened quite a few clots that had formed in the wounds and now they were freely bleeding again. 

She tore another few inches off the bottom of the command shirt she was wearing and saturated it with the water from the canteen. Jim tensed as the wet fabric connected with his raw and inflamed skin. 

"Hold on, Uncle Jim, I'm almost done," she continued to clean off the blood from his back. 

A few of the deeper spots were still bleeding sluggishly by the time she was satisfied with cleaning out the wounds as best she could. It didn't take a genius to know that infection was a serious possibility and she wished her father was on his way to rescue them. At some point Jim had mercifully passed out so she pulled off the gold shirt and folded it neatly before nestling it under his head. 

Joanna poured some water into her hands to wash the blood off her fingers. She moved around so that she was sitting in front of him and took one of his outstretched hands into her own. 

### 

“Ensign Chekov, as the Captain’s life is most certainly in danger you need to tell us what happened. I will order you if necessary.” 

“He ewen specifically said not to tell you, Meester Spock.” 

The young ensign was doing his best to keep his secrets with the Vulcan that stood over him. 

“That mad bastard!” the Scotsman swore. 

“This is precisely the kind of stunt he would pull,” Sulu added. 

Chekov was trying to avoid everyone’s eyes in a serious effort to remain resolute. Jim had given explicit instructions not to tell a single soul and that lives depended on it. 

“Ensign, as Acting Captain of this vessel I order you to tell me what you know about the missing security footage.” 

“I’m sorry sir, I cannot obey. I will resign my duties if necessary,” Chekov said confidently. 

“But you do know what happened right?” Uhura was on the edge of her chair. 

Chekov drew in a breath, “I am begging you, please do not make me tell.”

Spock backed away from the nervous navigation officer. It was unwise to push him to resignation, and then he would not obtain the information he wanted and lose an officer. 

“Very well, Mister Chekov. I am sure the Captain had his reasons. However it would be prudent to understand that you will be partly responsible should any harm come to the Captain or Miss McCoy.” 

Chekov kept his head down as Spock dismissed everyone back to their stations. The young man’s heart was tearing itself in half. On one hand he’d sworn to his ‘keptin’ that he would keep his secret but on the other hand he could not deceive those who could help. Spock was almost out of the door when he raised his head. 

“Wait, Meester Spock,” he would betray someone no matter his choice. 

Spock spun around on his heels. 

“Yes, Ensign?” 

Chekov took a moment to steady his nerves, “It waz I ser.”

Spock’s eyebrow arched automatically, “You erased the files from the ship’s memory drives?” 

“Yes,” Chekov hung his head in shame. 

“What did the missing footage contain?” 

“Miscellaneous files, subsection two-gamma, authorization: juliet-tango-kilo-441.” 

“Thank you, Pavel. Please report to your station,” Spock exited hastily to the Bridge. 

Uhura was in the process of pulling up the file when Chekov made his way back to his seat. Sulu gave the poor man a pat on the back as he walked past the helm station, “You did the right thing, man.” 

Chekov nodded solemnly as the security footage started on the main view screen. He kept his head down since he already knew what was on the file. Everyone else rose from their seats to see what happened. Uhura and Scotty still flinched at the sight of McCoy stunning his best friend. 

They watched as McCoy bent down to check the Captain’s pulse. This time the images kept playing. The doctor reached for something else hidden in the small of his back and pulled up the sleeves to Jim’s shirts. There was a flash of metal as whatever McCoy had hidden was pressed to the inside of Jim’s arms. McCoy ran his thumb over the site and pulled the sleeves back down. He reached up to check the Captain’s pulse again and the video continued as they all had seen multiple times before. The whole thing took twenty-eight seconds. 

“What was that?” Giotto asked from the back of the Bridge. 

“It was a tracking dewice,” Chekov answered. 

Everyone gasped; the whole charade had been planned.

“Kirk knew?” Uhura stood in disbelief. 

“It appears so,” Spock stated. “The next objective is to locate the receiver for the device. Ensign Chekov?” 

“I do not hawe it ser. Doctor McCoy had it. I only supplied the transponder.” 

“It’s unlikely that he kept it with him then, they would have found it when he was arrested,” Sulu supplied. 

“I bet that damn thing is still on the shuttle,” Scotty dashed to the turbolift. 

Giotto and Spock were on Scotty’s heels as he sprinted through the corridors of the ship. The Scotsman was nearly out of breath as he skidded to a stop inside the shuttle bay. Giotto pointed to the shuttle McCoy had taken and the three of them piled into the shuttle. Scotty immediately started flipping over seat cushions while Spock went to the cockpit. They searched through every nook and cranny they could see. The Vulcan’s mind was firing on all cylinders as he ran his nimble fingers under the front console. They connected with something cold and metallic. He gripped the device adhered to the panel and pulled it free. 

“Oi, there it is!” Scotty and Giotto crammed into the cockpit to get a look at the transponder in Spock’s hand. 

Spock wasted no time in turning the device on. A faint blinking light emanated from the top of the small screen. 

“Everyone to the Bridge.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Detailed descriptions of torture and injury (adult) and imprisonment of a minor (not graphic). Language.

###

“Are you sure this is necessary?” Uhura asked, zipping her black field jacket. "We will all go to jail for this."

“I distinctly remember asking for volunteers," Spock checked the charge on his phaser before holstering it under his dress uniform. “I would also like to remind you that you were the one who—"

Giotto, also attired in field blacks, finished his conversation with Scotty and closed his comm, "Everyone on the ship is in position. We're good to go once on board."

"Thank you," Spock straightened his cover.

"Giotto and I will meet you at the extraction zone four point seven minutes after you enter."

"Yes, they employ Starfleet's standard transporter jamming device. It will be straightforward to disable."

"A few well placed charges make everything straightforward to disable," Uhura rolled her eyes as she holstered her own phaser.

"Are you ready?" Spock asked his two cohorts.

They nodded.

"I will begin then," Spock stepped out of the vehicle and into the brisk Northern California night.

Giotto and Uhura activated the distortion masks over their faces, and dashed silently out of the vehicle towards the building's exterior. Spock gave no notice of them as they scaled the side of the wall when he entered the detention facility. 

"I wish to see Lieutenant Commander McCoy," Spock informed the MP at the front desk.

"Visiting hours are over for the day," the guard returned to the parrises squares game that streamed on his computer terminal.

The poor guard didn't know what hit him until he was losing consciousness with a throbbing pain where his neck met his shoulder. After disabling the surveillance system the Vulcan pulled the security card off the MP's belt and unlocked the door for himself. In a lapse of security, on Starfleet's part, he'd been able to access the building's blueprints and memorize them. He disarmed two more guards before arriving at his intended destination. The gate to the solitary cells opened with an unceremonious pass of the guard’s security chip over the sensor.

Dozens of identically locked doors greeted him when he stepped onto the cellblock. Thanks to a quick comm to the JAG lawyer, he knew exactly which cell contained the doctor. It was the eighth one down on the north side. He quickly located the cell; the only thing on the display screen next to the solid door was a prisoner identification number. 

He thumbed the video system open, "Doctor McCoy?"

There was no reply from the man who had his head buried in his hands.

"Doctor McCoy?"

Again there was no response.

If Spock could get irritated, he would have been, "Time is of the essence, Doctor. Giotto and Uhura will be disarming the jamming device on the roof of this facility in forty-six seconds. We must be at the extraction point or we will be apprehended."

"Leave me here to rot," McCoy's voice echoed throughout the barren cell.

Spock proceeded with his plan and waved the security card over the reader on the display panel. Nothing happened. He waved the card again. No response.

“Spock, the detonation sequence has started.” Uhura’s voice crackled through the comm at his belt.

“Stand by,” Spock ordered into the unit.

“What?”

“Countdown has started, you have twenty seconds!” Giotto said hastily.

“I am experiencing technical difficulties opening the door,” Spock looked around the empty cellblock for anything to use.

“Ten seconds!”

“Spock, you need to hurry.”

“I am well aware of the time constraints, Nyota. The tone of your voice is not facilitating—“

“Hey you, hands up!”

Spock was too preoccupied with getting the door open to notice that a lone guard had managed to sneak up on him despite his acute Vulcan hearing. He mentally reprimanded himself for his carelessness.

“I said hands up!”

He turned around to see a phaser pointed at his chest.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding,” Spock held his hands up.

The building shook with a deep rumbling and then absolute chaos. Alarms and red lights flashed everywhere. 

“Identify yourself,” the guard flipped his phaser from stun to kill.

The Vulcan showed no sign of the distress he was experiencing, “I am Acting-Captain Spock, USS Enterprise.”

“The Enterprise? What are you doing here?”

Spock did not answer the question; he could not lie.

“I asked, why are you here?”

A large thump on the roof distracted the guard long enough for Spock to lunge at the man and disarm him with a pinch. The guard crumpled to the floor. Wasting no time, Spock took the security chip off the man’s breast pocket and used it to unlock McCoy’s cell. The door slid open, but McCoy made no movement to leave his cell. The doctor glanced up at Spock for a moment before returning his head to his hands.

“Doctor McCoy, we must leave immediately.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I must insist. We must meet the others at the extraction point or we will likely be incarcerated.”

The doctor huffed, “I’m already incarcerated, Spock.”

Spock didn’t have time for this; he swiftly entered the cell and approached the distraught man.

“Doctor McCoy, we have located Jim.”

“My daughter?” McCoy looked up.

“Presumably with him.”

“You don’t even know if they’re still alive.”

“Are you willing to risk it?” Spock was well aware of the time ticking by as McCoy dragged his feet.

“I’m better off staying here, Spock. I don’t want to go and collect their bodies.”

Spock stepped in closer to his friend.

“Go back to the ship, Spock. Feel free to bring them home yourself. I don’t want any more reminders of what I did to either of them.”

Exasperated and out of time, Spock closed the gap between him and the doctor. McCoy found it weird that a Vulcan was laying a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but there was a squeeze at the delicate bundle of nerves and then nothing.

“What did you do to him?” Uhura asked from the doorway with Giotto behind her, both stared at the man slumped over on his side.

“He did not wish to come with us,” Spock pulled McCoy’s arm around his shoulder.

Giotto pushed Uhura out of the way and slung the doctor’s other arm over his shoulder. The communications officer led the way with her phaser and stunned everyone who intercepted them on their way out of the cell blocks. They made it back to the visitor’s entrance and were swept up in swirls of golden light before a swarm of armed guards could get to them.

“Cut that one a little close,” Giotto hauled McCoy off the transporter pad with Spock.

“Well, once the shield was down it took us a minute to get signals through whatever they built that place out of,” the transporter tech responded.

The unconscious doctor was left with Giotto as Spock and Uhura raced to the bridge.

“Keptin on the Bridge,” Chekov announced as they bounded onto the center dais.

“We’re all set,” Sulu tapped away at his console.

“Begin,” Spock ordered.

“Aye sir,” Scotty said with a grin as he sat down at the engineering station.

Twenty seconds later the bridge went dark and the emergency lighting kicked in with alarms blaring on all decks. A cheery voice echoed through the corridors to inform the crew that there was a core malfunction and to evacuate in an orderly fashion. Orders that were readily followed except for by a handful of carefully picked crewmembers.

The crew in the dock control room saw a flash of an antimatter containment failure on their sensors before they noticed gases explosively vent out the Enterprise’s nacelles. Their alarms blared inside the control room, warning them of an imminent matter-antimatter explosion. 

“Enterprise to Dock Control,” Uhura hailed the control tower.

“Dock Control - Enterprise we are reading severe fluctuations in your antimatter containment field and instability in the warp core.”

“Confirm, Dock Control. We are experiencing a major antimatter containment failure in the warp core. Requesting emergency release from all moorings.”

“Approved Enterprise, support vessels are on their way.”

Uhura furiously flicked switches at her station, “...come in...Control...losing...emerg…” she relayed to the control tower before cutting off all external communications.

The large clamps holding the ship in place to the space station released and they were left floating away from the structure. Sulu maneuvered them away into free space.

“We’re clear sir,” he announced as they passed several other ships anchored to the station.

“Course laid in,” Chekov sat ready at this station.

Pleased with himself, Scotty silenced the alarms and stopped the outgassing from the ship’s nacelles, “Ready for warp.”

Spock nodded. The officers in the control tower were left stunned as the ship zipped off into the black.

### 

“Jo…” Jim breathed.

“I’m here, Uncle Jim,” the little girl came into focus right in front of him.

He tried to sit up but fire erupted in his back. The venom the whip barbs had been coated in was powerful. Every single nerve fiber fired off pain signals to his brain. It had been embarrassing to throw up in front of the child when it got to be too much for his body to handle when she had cleaned the oozing wounds on his back again.

“Joanna,” he struggled to keep his eye open.

“If you start talking about dying I will personally beat you,” Joanna was surprisingly serious.

Joanna was so like her father it made his heart ache at the possibility of not seeing him again, “She won’t hurt you as long as I’m alive. I’m going to do everything I can to hang on for you. The ship should be here soon."

“What do you mean, Uncle Jim?”

“I came to rescue you. Hopefully they’ve figured it out already.”

The little girl was doing her best to be brave.

“A failsafe, there’s a tracker in my arm. They’ll find us.”

Joanna put her fingers on Jim’s outstretched arm, looking for the tracker. Her fingers ran over a small solid mass in his left forearm. 

“You’re stupid for doing this,” she folded his arm back.

“I had to do it. Naturally the plan went to hell and she won’t rest until I’m dead.”

This talk scared Joanna, “I’ll be brave for as long as you’re alive. If you die, that’s it then. You still owe me ice cream from New York City.”

Jim groaned. He had already barely survived being tortured once in his life, and it wasn’t something he was sure he could survive again. It was incredibly tempting to give up and slip into the darkness than relive the mental and physical anguish. An achingly familiar arched eyebrow ended the protest ready to spill from his lips.

You have to do this for her just like you did for them before.

“Fine,” he sighed.

He shivered at the chill of the cell floor and the fever that had taken hold. There was a quizzical look from the girl as she put her hand on his forehead. If she felt the fever he knew was there, she didn’t say anything.

“That witch is going to come back soon, you should rest some more.”

Jim did close his eye, but it flew open as soon as his ears picked up the sounds of boot treads down the hallway. Joanna was asleep against him so he reasoned that he’d been out for several hours.

“I should snap a holo and send it to Doctor McCoy. Though, I’m not sure he’d get it in jail,” Lenore pressed her face through the bars.

Jim refused to give the woman any sense of satisfaction with his anger bubbling up. Joanna was up and gave her uncle a quick peck on the cheek before backing up to the wall of the cell.

“Well, are you ready to play today?”

Jim grimaced as her ever-present goons hauled him up and they carried him down the hallway. 

"A new room today?" Jim was thrown onto the floor; he didn’t have the energy to raise himself up.

The two thugs were silent as they cuffed their prisoner and hauled him up by his arms on a metal hook suspended from the ceiling. Jim couldn't contain his groan as the wounds on his wrist and broken arm were stretched into a familiar position. This time they hauled him up higher and chained his bare feet to a hook welded to the floor. Lenore dragged a chair across the room and sat down right in front of Jim.

"I hope I'm getting tips for my performances," Jim earned an elbow to his stomach.

The venom was still coursing in his veins, amplifying the punch to make it feel like an ice pick through his gut. The pain knocked the breath out of him.

"You're not that good, sweetie."

Jim was doing his best not to move and cause himself to swing, "Neither was your father."

That comment earned him a bucket of freezing cold water to his face.

"Thanks," he shook the water from his eyes. "I could use a bath, I feel myself getting ripe here. I demand to speak to whoever is in charge of this hotel to complain about the amenities."

Lenore stood up and took the two steps to close the distance between them. She had to look up to meet his eyes.

"You think you're so tough don't you? You think you can hide behind your humor?"

She grabbed his hips and spun him round. He bit through his lip to contain the groan that was forcing its way through his lips as the metal cuffs dug deeper into his broken skin and the wounds on his back twisted. The broken bones in his arm ground together at the movement. He had to survive; Joanna would be killed if Lenore's attention were no longer focused on him. The chains twisted as much as they could before momentum sent him spiraling in the opposite direction. The motion in his state was enough to make the sips of water Joanna forced on him return in a dribble down his chin.

"Gross," Lenore tossed another bucket of water in his face.

Jim tried to slow his breathing and quell the nausea that rolled in his gut. He was too busy concentrating to see the arm-length metal pole handed to Lenore. 

For Joanna.

The metal was icy cold when it made contact with the flesh under his ribs. That ice instantly turned to fire and his vision blurred. The surge of electricity rippled through his body and his muscles turned to stone; locked in contraction. He could feel his heart shutter in his chest at the unexpected stall when the electrical waves passed and his muscles relaxed. 

“I’d say there’s a special spark between the two of us,” Lenore giggled as the man sagged.

Jim couldn’t focus on anything other than the agony coursing through his body. He was lucky he was still conscious with his pain receptors firing non-stop with the electricity and the venom attacking them. There was barely any time to recover before his muscles seized up on him again as another jolt of electricity surged through him. Again he was left breathless when it let up.

“This was just the ‘low’ setting, I’d hate to see what anything higher does.”

Lenore’s voice rang through his ears but he couldn’t focus on the actual words. If it weren’t for Joanna, he was ready to die right there. His marred back tensed instinctively when the metal prod made contact with the inflamed flesh. He swore he heard a crack as a stronger jolt of electricity assaulted his weakened body. This time he mercifully blacked out.

Muffled voices filtered through his brain. He tried to tune them out but they just kept getting louder and louder.

“He pissed himself, rinse him off,” he heard before a deluge of cold water hit him square in the face.

He came to sputtering.

“There he is!” Lenore peeled his bad eye open with her sharp nails.

He hung there lifeless by his wrists. His head lolled against his chest but was brought back up by fingers pulling at his hair. His legs refused to kick at the sadistic woman; it only brought about more pain that radiated from his lower back. Fear kicked an additional boost of adrenaline into his system, desperately trying to reestablish connection with the nerves in his lower half. He only managed to buck wildly.

Lenore watched with sick fascination; she too had heard the sickening crack as the electricity surged along his spine. She pulled a small knife from her boot and waved it in front of a blue eye that had been dimmed by defeat. The man made no motion to stop her as the blade sliced effortlessly through his thigh. The black fabric parted and blood bubbled up from the torn skin.

She pouted, “You’re broken now. We can’t play anymore.”

Jim’s brain tried to process the lack of signal coming from the bleeding wound; there was no pain. He was paralyzed. His useless legs crumpled underneath him as the chain holding him was loosened and he dropped to the floor. One of the thugs pulled him by his broken arm and he lost consciousness from the pain.

###

“I’m not going,” McCoy shoved the black jumpsuit into Sulu’s chest.

“Doctor, we need you with us.”

McCoy retreated further away from the group huddled just inside the door in his quarters.

“Leonard…” Uhura started.

“No. What part of ‘no’ don’t any of you understand?”

Sulu and Uhura stepped further into the room.

“Your daughter and Jim are down there,” Uhura closed in on the distraught man. “They need your help.”

“They don’t need any more of my help. I fucked it all up enough already.”

“Spock to Sulu.”

“Sulu here, sir,” the helmsman said into his communicator.

“We will be departing in three minutes, is Doctor McCoy with you?”

Sulu looked at the haggard man, “No sir, he is refusing to go with us.”

“Understandable, there is no more time to try and convince him to go with us.”

“Aye, sir. Uhura and I will be there in thirty seconds,” he flipped the comm device closed.

Uhura reached up to give the doctor a kiss on the check before spinning on her heels. She walked past Sulu silently into the corridors of the ship.

McCoy didn’t look up to see his friends leave; the swish of his door was enough to let him know that he was alone again. So far the only good thing about being busted out of jail was the fact that he could wear his own clothes again. The first thing he’d done after he’d woken up from Spock’s nerve pinch was the rip off the prison coveralls he’d been forced into and turned his sonic shower up the highest frequency it would reach. People wouldn’t take the hint and leave him alone; Spock had made it sure that his privacy lock could be easily overridden by any officer. They had been by with food, coffee, news, and just to visit.

This time they wanted him to come with them on some hastily planned mission to whatever planet they were stalking from behind a moon. There was absolutely no way Joanna and Jim were still alive after all this time. He hadn’t been given anything with the time on it in the detention facility but he could guess that a week to a week and a half had passed since he’d handed over Jim.

He sat at his computer terminal staring at the holo on the screen when the door chime rang out through his quarters. Four buzzes, a pause, two more buzzes. It was Jim. He groaned, now was not a good time.

“Bones, let me in,” the wall muffled Jim’s voice. “Boooones.”

McCoy didn’t know what to do. His instructions couldn’t have been any simpler. Tell anyone and his daughter dies.

“Boooones! You’re not getting out of going to the gym again tonight.”

Thirty seconds later and the door swished open. He had no room to complain about Jim abusing his override codes as much as he abused his own when Jim was squirreled away in his own quarters.

“C’mon, Bones. We’re only getting fatter,” Jim sauntered in wearing an old academy shirt and gym shorts.

“Not now, Jim,” he refused to move from behind the screen and let his friend see his eyes.

“You bailed on me yesterday and the day before. You’re not getting out of it again and I saw you take a second slice of pie at dinner,” Jim plopped down dramatically in a living room chair.

“I’m busy.”

“I’m busy too, Bones, you know captaining a starship but I still make time to go to the gym.”

McCoy wished Jim would just go away already. He had no such luck, he heard Jim get up and plod over to his desk standing over him.

“Bones?” Jim asked quietly.

No doubt he’d seen his red-rimmed eyes.

“What’s wrong, Bones?” Jim was in full friend mode.

McCoy took one last look at his frightened daughter and turned the screen so Jim could see. 

“What have they sent you so far, Bones?” his voice was icy.

“So far one text comm, and two holos.”

“What are their demands?”

“You.”

“Me?” Jim was puzzled.

“They want to trade. You for Joanna,” fresh tears were pooling in his eyes.

“Do you know who sent this?”

“It’s not like they signed it, Jim,” he snapped. “They said if I told anyone they would send her back in multiple pieces.”

He felt Jim’s steady hand on his shoulder, “We’re going to get her back.”

“Who have you pissed off?” it came out sharper than he meant.

“I’m sorry, Bones.”

“Jocelyn called me after they took her, I talked to the police and everything. They took her right off the sidewalk on her way home from school.”

Jim didn’t say anything; he just gave his best friend’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Well, they want me so let’s do this.”

McCoy scoffed at the idea, “Jim, I’m not giving you up for slaughter.”

“Bones, whoever this is really wants me. It’s unlikely that they’ll kill me, well at least right off the bat.”

“Jim—“

“Listen, Bones, we can do this.”

“This is an epically bad idea, Jim.”

“If it gets Joanna back then it’s all worth it.”

“What about you when we make the trade?”

Jim dragged a chair up to McCoy’s desk and tabbed open the comm system, “Kirk to Chekov.”

“Chekov here ser,” the young ensign’s voice filtered through the speaker.

“Can you meet Doctor McCoy and I at his quarters, please?”

“Aye, sir.”

“Jim, don’t bring him into this,” the more people that got involved the more risky this whole thing got. 

"I have an idea," Jim reassured McCoy. "Trust me."

McCoy pursed his lips. Whatever Jim was planning was definitely going to work, but it was the unknown cost that had him worried. He could see the wheels in Jim's mind spinning out of control. There wasn't enough time to ask Jim what he was planning before Chekov showed up and was ushered into the cabin.

"Yes, Keptin?" Chekov could tell he was about to be asked to do something shady.

"I need you to get a hold of a subdermal tracking device," Jim sat the kid down in the chair he vacated.

"What for, Keptin?"

McCoy was shocked, "Chekov actually has access to this kind of stuff? Have you corrupted him, Jim?"

Jim ignored his friend, "You have to swear on your life and all of Russia, including your mother, that you will not tell anyone?"

Chekov swallowed, "Aye, Keptin."

"Good," Jim thumped the boy on his shoulder enthusiastically. "McCoy's daughter has been kidnapped to exchange for me."

Chekov nodded but remained silent.

"We're going through with the trade, but you guys will have to come and get me after they give Joanna back. That's where the tracker comes in. We don't know who's behind this or where they took Joanna."

"I will help with anything to get her back, Keptin."

McCoy's silence was enough approval Jim needed.

"One other thing, Chekov."

"Yes?"

"You'll need to wipe the security feeds from this. We have to make sure no one knows we know if this goes sour. Under no circumstances can you let on that this is a set up. Not even Spock can know. It’s likely that someone will be watching to make sure McCoy goes through with everything like they planned it. If whoever behind this gets tipped off, they could kill her before we can get her back. Check the computers for anything unusual, they probably have some sort of subroutine running to monitor the ship, and if there’s nothing there start a discrete scan of all personnel for anyone who shouldn’t be here."

"Aye."

"Good. Report to sick call tomorrow morning to pass Doctor McCoy the tracker. We'll take it from there. Any questions?"

"No, Keptin."

"Thank you, Pavel," Jim clapped the young ensign on the back, ending his part in this conversation.

Chekov nodded hesitantly to both officers before bolting out of McCoy's quarters.

"Jim, I have a bad feeling about this. Are you sure this is the best way? Jim, they don't want you to give you lollipops and tribbles. Who’s to say they’ll follow through with what they say?"

Jim looked at his friend, his blue eyes full of compassion and determination, "It's the way that's going to work. So how do you feel about stunning me?"

McCoy's stomach did a somersault just thinking about how eager Jim had been to throw himself into the lion's den to save his daughter. They were both likely dead now, rotting in some forsaken hellhole on the planet peaking around the moon they were hidden behind, and it was his entire fault.

###

"Everyone is accounted for," Giotto's voice crackled through Spock's in-ear comm device.

"Copy that. Take team bravo to point tango and wait for our mark," Spock replied.

Giotto confirmed his orders to take the security team of six to his team's designated point while Spock led the other team to their own position. He had three security officers in addition to Uhura and Sulu on his team. Spock observed each member of his team hidden in the tree line clad in black tactical gear and dark face paint; they were all on edge and eager to get McCoy's daughter and their captain back.

Chekov and Scotty stayed behind to run the ship and man the transporter controls for their inevitable hasty return. The young genius had easily detected a quiet program running at the back of the ship’s own surveillance program allowing someone to remote into their security and comm feeds. It had taken only five minutes for him to isolate and loop the security images being sent through the connection. Rerouting everything but routine comms had taken him two minutes; he was a little rusty with that system. Now everything being seen on his own monitors and comm feeds were isolated to the ship. He remembered smiling enthusiastically handing Spock a box of in-ear comm units that would be undetectable to whoever was listening in on the ship. 

Back on the planet’s surface, the decrepit three-story building two hundred meters from the tree line did not look menacing. They had traced the tracker' signal to an abandoned Terran colony on a planet called Ultion. A brief scan of the Federation's file on the colony revealed that the settlement had been abandoned after a series of intense storm systems had destroyed all of the farmland and several outlying villages. The main town buildings had been built to withstand the storms, which had sheltered the people for two weeks after the storms, before their financier had rescinded their funding to continue. The lone shuttle pad contained a single craft barely double the size of one of the Enterprise's shuttles. Not a single being was visible on thermal scans of the outside area.

Raindrops fell right in front of them making small craters in the soft ground they were laying on. The weather patterns only indicated a relatively tame storm that would help conceal their raid in the darkness. The rain picked up steadily until it was a full rain and every patch of skin not covered by the waterproof tactical gear was soaking wet. There was a flash of purple lightning several kilometers away followed by a loud clap of thunder.

"Is everyone ready?" Spock asked.

Five ‘ayes’ confirmed the team's readiness.

Spock pulled the stock of his repeating phaser into his shoulder and slid out from the tree line. Sulu, Uhura, and the other three security officers fanned out behind them. There was minimal cover between them and the building. It was too dark to see, but Giotto's team advanced from the other side of the building. There was a bolt of lightning and all six of them dropped to the muddy ground to avoid the chance of being seen. 

"All clear," Sulu radioed from his position as the night sky returned to pitch black.

They rose up out of the mud and continued. Two more breaks for lightning later, they reached their target. The other team confirmed their position on the opposite side. A clap of thunder disguised the well-timed explosive charge that destroyed the lock on the heavy metal door. Spock motioned for the team to enter the building. The three security officers entered first to clear the way for the three Bridge officers.

The interior of the structure was just as decrepit as the exterior. The long dark hallway clearly hadn't been touched in decades. The walls were just as grimy as the floors. Spock's superior eyesight caught a glint of metal as the other team ascended the stairs at the other end of the hallway.

"In position," Giotto checked in.

"Commence sweep," Spock ordered the two teams to begin.

Sulu flipped down a pair of special glasses that would allow him to see in the pitch-black hallway. Everyone else but Spock followed suit and put on pairs of their own glasses. He led the team into the corridor and each person fanned out to clear a room branching off. 'All clears' echoed through the comm units as the six-member team went room-by-room searching for anyone or any sign of activity.

They reached the end of the corridor without having seen a single thing.

"Level two clear, sir," Giotto's team also did not find anything.

"Level one clear."

“Are we sure this is the right building?” Sulu asked scanning for life signs.

“Affirmative, we must find an entrance to a substructure.”

“We don’t have maps of any,” Uhura flipped her glasses to the top of her head.

“Hence it is the most likely location of Joanna and the captain.”

“We’re coming down to your position.”

“Affirmative,” Spock looked around for any sign of any recent activity. “Two people per room as soon as the other team gets down here.”

Everyone nodded and took the brief respite to check their gear. Uhura and Sulu shared a look of concern between the two of them before Giotto and the other team arrived. Their quick break was over and everyone was dispatched to a room to search more thoroughly. Sulu and Uhura had been split up and paired with a security officer. 

Sulu and a security ensign named Rao were assigned to one of the clerk’s offices at the far end of the corridor. Rao led while Sulu covered the rear as they entered their room. There wasn’t much in there, just a desk with a busted computer terminal and a chair that was tipped over on its side. An old replicator was set into the wall, but the several inches of dust in its recess confirmed that no one had touched it in years. The two men ran their hands over every surface looking for a hidden panel or anything that could open up into a larger structure. 

“I don’t see anything,” Sulu ran his hands around the window joints.

“Try the thermal, maybe we can pick up a draft or something coming through a crevice.”

“Good idea,” Sulu dug in a knee pocket for the handheld scanner.

“I’m ready,” Rao tapped a small button on the side of his tactical glasses.

Sulu could see the images on Rao’s lenses as he scanned the room. His heart jumped to his throat when he saw the man lock onto the floor under the chair.

“See something?”

“Maybe, scrub out signals above 35 degrees.”

Sulu did as he was told and watched intently as Rao knelt down to the floor. There was a slight give in the floor as he pressed down with his hands.

“Spock, we got something.”

“On my way.”

“Is there any way to open it?”

“Not that I can see,” Rao ran his hands around an invisible edge only he could see through his glasses. “It’s a small draft, but with this flooring, nothing should be coming up at all.”

“What do you have?” Spock and his partner arrived.

“There’s an opening in the floor here, we could only detect it with thermal differentials,” Rao moved out of the way so Spock could test the floor for himself.

“Any mechanism to open?”

“Not that we could find,” Sulu replied.

Spock’s nimble fingers managed to pry up a corner, “Check for devices or wires.”

Spock’s partner ran a small mirror under the corner he managed to open, “Clear, sir.”

“All teams converge at my location,” Spock ordered.

The rest of the group filed into the room silently with their weapons trained at the floor. Spock yielded his position to one of the more trained security team members. 

“What did you find?” Uhura asked.

“Unknown, but likely an alternative access point to the structures below.”

“I’ve got a hinge,” the security officer lying on the floor announced.

“Can you open it?” Spock asked.

“Uh…negative, I’ve also got a locking mechanism on the opposite side. What’s our smallest charge size?”

Spock turned to the group’s ordnance specialist, “I can cut some down, how small do you want it?”

“Ten millimeters by three millimeters. I need three of those. The detonation should be muffled with the storm and the small size. They should be enough to clear the lock and the two hinges.”

“Do it,” Spock ordered.

The ordnance tech immediately set his kit on the floor and pulled out a cube of white clay. It pinched under his fingers as he cut three small strips off the main block with a boot knife. He gently handed each sliver to the officer on the floor. The pieces of the polymer bound explosive were molded around the two hinges and the lock. Microcharges were placed into the polymer and everyone backed away.

“Ready, sir,” the tech held out a handheld detonator. 

Spock pulled his phaser into his shoulder and nodded.

“Fire in the hole.”

The controlled detonation was perfectly time with an extra loud clap of thunder that shook the building. The door popped free from its spot in the floor. It was quickly pulled out of the way and several phasers shoved down it.

“Clear down. It looks like it's about three meters to the bottom,” someone announced.

“Proceed.”

Three security officers jumped down through the hole and landed with a soft thud at the bottom. They set up a perimeter before signaling to the others to follow. All but two dropped through the floor.

"Five forward, five back."

The group split up; five went one direction down the corridor while the other five went in the opposite direction. Uhura followed Spock as he led their group down the dank hallway. Decades in a soil constantly flooding from torrential rains did nothing to help the subterranean levels. Water was seeping down the walls and some sort of plant matter was growing under each bare light fixture spaced on the walls.

"I've got life signs ahead," Rao looked up from his tricorder screen. "It looks like there's an intersecting hallway twenty meters ahead. I count five to the east and two to the west."

Seven possible targets were too many for them to handle so he recalled the other team to double back and meet them.

"Any movement?"

Uhura looked at the tricorder screen over Rao's shoulder.

Rao rechecked the device, "The two to the west appear stationary. On the east, four are sitting at a table I think, and one is stationary at least an additional six meters away. I think they're in a different room."

"How are we going to do this?" Uhura asked.

"Three will take the two in the west, the other seven will take those in the east."

"We're here," Giotto and Sulu's team arrived.

"Lieutenant Giotto, take two and proceed to the west targets. I'll lead the others to the east."

"Aye, Sulu and Ortiz with me."

"Wait for my mark," Spock stalked to the intersection in the hall and cleared the corner.

Everyone followed their leaders to their designated hallways. Giotto's team came to a stop in front of a heavy metal door. 

"Stand by, we've got another locked door," Giotto gently pulled on the door.

"I think I can open this," Sulu pulled a multi-tool from a vest pocket and started unscrewing the control panel next to the door.

"We've got an open door, four targets sitting at a table."

"Hang on," Sulu pulled out a handful of multicolored wires.

He used the small knife to cut four of the wires in half and remove their plastic coatings to reveal the filaments underneath. All four sets were crossed between each other before the helmsman declared they could open the door.

"We're good to go here," Spock heard in his comm.

The Vulcan needlessly rechecked his weapon, "Enter in 3, 2, 1, mark."

The four members hiding around the door fired at once, stunning each person sitting at the table. The four goons landed with a heavy thud on the table, scattering a deck of cards with some alien language all over the ground. The team advanced into the room and quickly secured their prisoner's hands with magnetic cuffs behind their backs. 

"I’ve been waiting for you, Spock," a woman walked in from an attached room.

"Hands up!" "Stay where you are!"

Everyone's phasers were trained on the woman in an instant. Spock immediately recognized her.

"We found Joanna and the Captain, they’re alive."

"As Acting Captain of the USS Enterprise I hear by place you under arrest, Lenore Karidian," Spock switched his phaser to kill.

The rest of the team noticed this and switched their weapons. Uhura was the only other person that knew who this woman was and her own finger was twitching to fire her weapon.

"It's good to see you too, Spock. It’s been awhile hasn’t it?"

"Put your hands up and slowly lower yourself to your knees," Spock ordered.

"Spock, we have the Captain and Joanna. Acknowledge."

"Understood," Spock said without taking his eyes off the daughter of the infamous Kodos of Tarsus IV.

"You might want to go check on him. He's not doing so hot."

Spock's finger twitched over the trigger, "What did you do to him?"

"He got what he deserved for murdering my father," she held her hands up carelessly.

"You killed your own father, Lenore. Raise your hands or I will use force."

"You won't do it Spock. Don't think I didn't notice you change your phaser over. Could you really kill me? Could your Vulcan-ness allow it?"

"We need a medic."

Uhura was doing her best to remain calm; by the sound of Sulu's voice they needed to hurry.

"I will use the force necessary to keep you from harming anyone else."

Lenore's mouth twitched upward in a sly smile, “Very well then, I surrender.”

"Secure the prisoner," Spock ordered.

“Put your hands on the back of your head,” a crewman shoved his charged phaser in the woman’s face.

“As you wish,” Lenore clasped her hands behind her head.

With her head in the way no one could see her pull a bangle out from under her jacket and give the outer decorative ring a firm twist. She felt the tingle start at her feet as a swirl of white light surrounded her.

“You really do find the coolest stuff in the outer edges of the galaxy,” she gave a wave before her atoms dissipated.

“Find out where she went,” Spock fled the room with Uhura on his heels.

###

Giotto and Ortiz pulled their phasers closer to their chest and Sulu had his thumb over the button that would open the door.

"Enter in 3, 2, 1, mark."

The helmsman pressed the button and the door swished open. Giotto and Ortiz led while Sulu turned around and covered the rear. They were in another long grimy corridor. 

“Signals are coming from the end,” Giotto rechecked his tricorder.

They passed empty room after empty room until they reached another door, this one unlocked. Sulu tapped Ortiz on the shoulder and the crewman inched the door open. No wires or traps were seen with a quick look from a small mirror passed around the inside edge of the door. He opened it more and the men filed into the room. They found themselves in some sort of prison with three barred cells on each side of the room. Sulu and Giotto led while Ortiz covered their exit as they advanced toward the last cell, and only one occupied, on the right. One look at the tuft of dirty blonde hair told them they were in the right place.

"We found Joanna and the captain, they’re alive," Sulu commed to Spock.

He took a closer look at the unmoving body on the floor. Jim’s back was a bloody and gruesome mess of crisscrossing slash marks, some of which went all the way from shoulder to hip.

“Shit, we need to get that door open guys!” Sulu pulled on the bars.

Ortiz knelt down in front of the lock, “It’s a combo of a code and biometrics.”

“Can we blow it open?” Giotto asked, keeping an eye on the area behind them.

Ortiz was digging through his vest pockets. “I’m out of CX-9.”

Sulu looked around the room to see if there was anything they could use to open the door. Spying nothing he asked, “What about a continuous beam from a phaser?”

“We could try it. I don’t know what alloy this is,” he tapped the metal bar for emphasis.

Sulu nodded and turned his weapons sideways to program a long pulse, “Okay, stand back.”

Ortiz and Giotto moved away from the cell gate. They looked at their captain and noticed he hadn’t budged with all the commotion. Sulu took a step back and aimed at the locking bar. He pulled the trigger and a bright red beam hit the metal. The amount of energy being transferred into the metal caused it to turn red and heat up until it was bright white. Giotto was able to wrench the door open with the molten locking bar. They jumped out of the way of liquid metal that splashed as the door gave way. 

Sulu dived to the Captain, "Spock, we have the Captain and Joanna. Acknowledge."

"Understood."

Sulu looked down to see a small bundle trembling into his Captain’s chest. “Joanna, remember me? I’m Hikaru, I’m here to take you to your dad.”

A pair of frightened hazel eyes peered over Jim’s body. Tears of relief were welling up but she refused to budge towards Sulu’s outstretched arms.

“You can trust me, Joanna. Spock and Uhura are with me too.”

The girl remained clutched in Jim’s unconscious grasp, “He’s hurt. I don’t think his legs work.”

Sulu’s stomach sank, “We need a medic,” he said as calmly as he could into his comm.

“Your dad’s on board the Enterprise, we’ll get Uncle Jim fixed up for you.”

Giotto and Ortiz felt like they were intruding on a private moment and took a few steps away from the cell. Sulu took a look at the mess that was Jim’s back. If he had a spinal cord injury he needed to be flat but with the state of the wounds and the dirty floor, he didn’t want to be the one to do it.

“Down here!” Giotto yelled down the hallway.

Spock and Uhura burst into the room and skidded to halt at the cell door. 

“What’s his condition?” Spock asked, stepping into the cell to get a better look.

Sulu didn’t want the girl to hear so he gave his commander a small shake of his head.

“Muller’s on his way,” Uhura joined them in the cell. 

Joanna’s eyes lit up at the sight of one of her favorite adults.

“Hey, Joanna,” Uhura knelt to the ground. “Do you mind coming over here with me so we can get Uncle Jim some help?”

Joanna shook her head.

“It’s okay, sweetie. He’s hurt and we need to take care of him,” she held out a hand.

Muller, the group’s corpsman, entered the cell. It was suddenly too crowded and people needed to leave.

“Get her out of here,” Muller commanded, taking a quick glance at his captain.

“Joanna, you need to come with me,” Uhura closed the gap between her and the girl.

“He promised me,” tears began rolling down her cheeks.

The medic’s desperate look spurred the communications officer to act quickly and pulled Joanna free from Jim’s weak grasp. Joanna held onto his hand until their fingers broke apart and his arm fell with a lifeless thud against the ground. Uhura clutched the girl in command gold to her chest and pulled her out of the cell.

“He’s going to be okay, you know him right?” Uhura knelt down to Joanna’s eye level.

“His legs aren’t working,” Joanna sobbed.

Uhura didn’t know what to say so she pulled the girl in for a tight hug.

“Tell the Enterprise we’ve got a spinal cord injury,” Muller ordered as he unfolded a portable combat litter from his backpack. “I don’t want to put him down on his back, but I’ve got no choice.”

Spock, Sulu, and Mueller managed to straighten Jim’s body out and log roll him onto the litter. The medic worked quickly to place a rigid collar around Jim’s neck. His fingers found the switch on the side and activated the immobilization field, keeping Jim’s spine from moving. 

“Captain, can you hear me?” Muller lifted each of Jim’s eyelids with his thumb before flashing a light over them.

There was no response, only ragged shallow breaths so he sealed an emergency mask over his Jim’s mouth and nose. Based on the blood pressure that was dropping, neurogenic shock was taking hold and fluids were a must. With the immobilization field there was no way Jim would flinch and an IV was quickly established with the line opened up all the way. Mueller handed the IV bag to Spock who was watching everything that was unfolding.

Muller looked up from the tricorder, “We need to get him back ASAP. His BP is tanking and I’m getting arrhythmias here. God only knows what infection he has brewing.” 

“Can we beam him up in that condition?”

“A shuttle will take too long,” Muller said grimly.

Spock nodded and handed the IV bag to Sulu, “Spock to Enterprise.”

“Scott here, ser.”

“Location is secure. Request a beam up for four, and have a medical team meet us,” Jim and Joanna needed to be transported to the ship first.

“No can do, ser, not from that building in addition to the storm. You’ll have to clear the building, ser.”

“Mister Scott, the Captain is seriously injured.”

“I know ser, but until ya clear the building I cannae get to ya.”

The medic overheard this exchange and had preemptively tucked a waterproof blanket over Jim’s unmoving form. He tossed another one to Uhura who had tucked one around her charge. 

“I understand, Mister Scott,” he closed off the line to the ship. “Muller you take the Captain and Uhura you take Miss McCoy. I will stay behind and beam with the prisoners.”

“Is she dead?” Joanna turned around against Uhura’s chest.

“She will not harm another person, Miss McCoy,” only Uhura detected the venom in his words.

“C’mon, we need to get up to ground level,” she gave the captain a quick glance before herding Joanna out of the room.

Sulu grabbed the other end of the litter with Muller and gently lifted Jim from the floor. The security team parted and let them pass, each giving their captain a pat on his head as he was carried past them. The way up was considerably easier than the way down thanks to a set of stairs that led directly to the landing pad they’d seen when surveying the area. Uhura lifted the blanket over Joanna’s head to protect her from the rain as they emerged onto the paved surface of the landing pad. Muller did the same for the Captain.

“Four to beam up.”

###

"We found Joanna and the Captain, they’re alive."

The mug in McCoy’s hands slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor, spilling dark brown coffee over the carpet in his quarters.

Alive.

Joanna was alive. Jim was alive. Despite not wanting to know, he couldn’t help himself and asked for access to the security team’s comm feed to listen in on the operation. He opened the line at the most opportune moment. The sense of utter defeat was erased with two words. 

They’re alive. 

The comm lines were messy as they were coming from two different groups. No doubt the Bridge was able to separate everything, but he had only tapped into the general signal so he was getting it unfiltered and tangled. Things were hard to follow until the teams converged and everything was coming in through a single feed.

“Joanna, you really need to come with me.”

“He promised me,” he could hear the heart-breaking sadness in his daughter’s voice.

“Tell the Enterprise we’ve got a spinal cord injury.”

Even in the 23rd century this was a life altering injury. His stomach sank as there was a very real possibility that Jim would never walk again. The coffee that hadn’t made it into his stomach yet gurgled in his esophagus. 

“We need to get him back ASAP. His BP is tanking and I’m getting arrhythmias here. God only knows what infection he has brewing.” 

“Can we beam him up in that condition?”

“A shuttle will take too long.” 

This was worse than death; in death there was an absence of suffering, with paralysis Jim would have to deal with this for the rest of his life. He never should have agreed to this. They should’ve found another way.

“Four to beam up.”

He bolted to the transporter room. Uhura had just cleared the pad with his daughter by the time skidded into the room.

“Joanna!” he pulled the girl from Uhura’s arms.

“Daddy!” she wrapped her arms and legs around her father.

McCoy squeezed as tight as he could, feeling his little girl breathing in his arms, “I love you so much, sweetpea.”

“I love you more, Daddy,” Joanna was crying big fat tears of happiness.

He ran a hand through the girl’s disheveled hair. 

“Daddy...Uncle Jim,” Joanna sobbed into her father’s shoulder.

The doctor moved his head to the other side of Joanna’s to see what was going on at the transporter pad. The medical team, led by M’Benga, had surrounded Jim. 

“It’s okay, sweetpea, they’re helping him.”

He turned Joanna’s head away from the scene as the team rushed out of the room with the injured captain. The quick look he got a Jim’s battered face hadn’t been reassuring. Joanna began to struggle in her father’s arms. McCoy obliged and immediately regretted his decision as his little girl bolted from his arms the room limping.

“Joanna!” he easily caught up with his child.

With one arm holding her still, he used his other hand to pull the foot wrapped in command gold towards him.

“What happened?” he steered them towards sickbay.

“I lost a shoe,” Joanna was trying to free herself again. “Daddy, you have to help Uncle Jim.”

“Joanna, you’re hurt. The other doctor can handle Jim, let me take care of you,” McCoy ushered her through the doors with a firm hand on her shoulder.

Joanna twisted around trying to find her Uncle Jim. Her small hazel eyes locked onto the broken body laid out on a biobed being worked on frantically. McCoy understood all of the alarms blaring on the biomonitor and took Joanna to the farthest biobed away from Jim. He set her down and pulled the privacy curtain to block their view.

“Daddy—” she pleaded.

“He’s in neurogenic shock! Airway is clear, O2-sats low but steady at 92, BP low at 80/60, pulse is bradycardic at 55, and no response to pain below the waist. Pupils are sluggish,” he heard the concern in M’Benga’s voice as he took control of Jim’s care.

“He’s going to be fine, Joanna,” McCoy lied through his teeth.

McCoy peeked around the curtain to see hands busy passing stuff over Jim and cutting off the tattered remains of his clothes. The mask was pulled off his face as the biobed’s oxygen field took over. Several vials of blood were taken from another IV line that had been started in Jim’s other arm. He turned his attention back to his daughter who had tear tracks streaming down her face. 

They can handle it. You’ve done enough for Jim.

“Let me look at your foot,” he laid a gentle hand on Joanna’s ankle.

“Uncle Jim said there wasn’t any glass in there,” she winced as her foot was freed from the gold fabric.

The doctor probed the tender flesh under his hands, “He was right. I’m going to have to clean this out really well. I can’t seal it just yet.”

Joanna nodded and wearily rubbed a fist in her eye. He discreetly loaded a hypospray.

“Why don’t you lay down while I clean this out? I’m gonna give you something for the pain.”

The little girl saw the approaching hypospray, “Don’t make me go to sleep, Daddy.”

“Joanna, you’ve had a long few days."

“No,” she snapped.

“Joanna Elizabeth McCoy," apparently she had picked up some of Jim's stubbornness.

“I won’t talk to you ever again,” she crossed her arms.

Joanna was in an intense stare down with her father when M’Benga’s voice broke their concentration, “We have to move quickly if he’s going to walk again.”

“Fine,” McCoy gave into the fierce hazel eyes staring him down and swapped out the cartridge in the hypospray for a milder analgesic. “This won’t make you sleepy,” he held the device waiting for her permission.

She tilted her head and accepted the injection without a word.

“Now can I get to work?” he was pulling supplies out of the cabinets.

The little girl nodded and laid down on the biobed. He sat down on a stool at the end of the biobed and raised her injured foot on a stack of folded blankets.

“Okay, I have to give you a couple of shots in your foot to numb it. It’ll only hurt for a second and then you won’t feel anything.”

Joanna turned her head away. McCoy pursed his lips as he set about his work. He was secretly proud of her while she remained stoic as he injected a local anesthetic into her foot with a real needle.

“Feel anything?” he touched a toe.

The girl shook her head. 

“Leonard,” M’Benga ripped the curtain open.

“Yeah, Geoff?” he looked up.

“I need a hand with Jim. He’s got fractures at T12 and L1. I need to do a decompression.”

“Daddy!” Joanna bolted upright.

You put him in this situation. You’ve done enough.

“Joanna, quiet.”

“Please, Leonard. I need another set of hands.”

He was torn; on one hand he wanted nothing to do with Jim but then he wanted to clear everyone out of the way and fix everything he fucked up. 

“His BP is dropping again!” Chapel shouted from the surgical suite.

M’Benga didn’t wait for McCoy’s reply and fled.

“Daddy, Uncle Jim needs you,” Joanna pleaded.

His daughter’s desperate hazel eyes did nothing for his resolve and he was halfway across the bay by the time his brain registered his decision. He saw the team of nurses and M’Benga desperately trying to stabilize Jim enough to operate through the depolarized OR window.

“I’m here,” McCoy announced having just come through the scrub room.

“Sterile field is up and running; we’re good to go,” Chapel announced as she held out a surgical gown for McCoy.

“Scans are on the board,” M’Benga pointed to a display screen with a gloved finger.

McCoy walked over to study the images. He held onto a sense of hope until he got to the lower thoracic region. T12 and L1 had tiny fractures running through the bone.

“What caused this?” he reached his hands into gloves held out for him.

“Electrocution, I think, in combination with whatever beating he took,” M’Benga directed the nurses to position Jim on his stomach, ensuring that his airway remained open. “He’s got a couple of severe burns and cardiac scans showed muscle damage.”

“Shit,” McCoy ducked so a nurse could tie a mask over his face.

McCoy grimaced as a nurse spritzed an antiseptic solution into the grotesque slashes on Jim's back before covering them with sterile drapes, leaving only their work area exposed.

“Number four.” “Number five.” both surgeons had outstretched hands.

Chapel looked at the both of them with an arched eyebrow.

“You do it, I’ll assist,” McCoy pulled his hand back.

“Are you sure?” M’Benga was visibly relieved.

“Yeah, positive. I shouldn’t even be here anyways.”

M’Benga hesitated for only a second, observing the broken man, “Number five.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Detailed descriptions of torture and injury (adult) and imprisonment of a minor (not graphic). Language.

### 

“Still no reflexes or response to pain,” Chapel gently folded the blankets back over Jim’s legs. 

McCoy nodded, “It’s still early yet; there’s still a lot of swelling. He’s lucky the dura wasn’t breached. There’s still hope he’ll walk again. Let's bring the biobed's temperature down another two degrees and up the zephramycin to 500 migs every two hours." 

The doctor ran his hand through his hair; Jim was in sorry shape. Besides the damage to his spine, the electrocution had caused an arrhythmia that they were struggling to correct with medications. They hadn’t been able to do anything about closing the plethora of wounds in his back they were so heavily infected and instead they’d been packed with special antimicrobial gauze. Cleaning them out had taken nearly as long as relieving the pressure off his spinal cord and stabilizing the broken bones. Even with all their hard work they were too late as the toxic substances had already entered his bloodstream began their attack on his other systems. Their computers were currently scanning through their references trying to find which antibiotic weaponry to release against the bacterial invaders. The pieces of his broken humerus bone had been plated and screwed together until they could be healed later, and they couldn’t do anything for his broken occipital bone leaving his eye swollen shut. Everything else had to wait until he was more stable to take care of. 

“Daddy?” a soft voice carried through sickbay. 

His heart skipped a beat, he’d forgotten about his daughter while he’d been in surgery.

Chapel saw the man’s panic and took charge, “Don’t worry. Hayes dressed her foot and cleaned her up. She tried to get her to go to sleep but she’s been up waiting.” 

“Any problems with the foot?” 

Chapel shook her head but handed the man a data pad with the girl’s chart. Nurse Hayes had cleaned the wounds and dressed them while giving her a round of antibiotics per M’Benga’s orders. 

“Thank you,” his shoulders dropped in relief. 

Joanna was sitting cross-legged playing with a data pad in a pair of replicated Starfleet PT attire when he rounded the curtain pulled around her biobed. 

“I’m here, sweetpea,” he sat on the edge of the bed. 

She looked up at her father with big hazel eyes, “Is Uncle Jim okay?” 

He swallowed, “He’s very sick, sweetpea.” 

“Is he going to get better?” 

"We're doing everything we can," he ran his hand over Joanna's wet braid. 

"He owes me ice cream from New York." 

"Ice cream in New York huh?" 

"Apparently you get a spoon made out of gold to eat it with." 

"That sounds fancy."

"Yep, and he said you're not invited." 

McCoy feigned being hurt, "And why am I not invited young lady?" 

Tears started pooling in the little girl's eyes, "He made me promise to be brave. I was as brave as I could." 

A piece of the father's heart shattered with each and every sob. He pulled his little girl into his arms as the cascade of tears started, "You were very brave, Joanna. I'm sure he's very proud of you. I know I’m very proud of you." 

"I made him promise that if he died I didn't have to be brave anymore," the child sobbed into her father’s t-shirt. "I don't want him to die." 

McCoy clutched her tighter, "He's fighting, sweetpea." 

"Is his back making him sick? I tried to clean it but I don't think I did a good job. I think the witch poisoned him." 

McCoy had to blink a few times to process the information, "You cleaned the wounds?"

"Yeah, with some water they gave us. I tried to pick out as many bits of his shirt as I could but..."

"Joanna, he would be much sicker if you hadn't helped him." 

"When he came back the last time I didn't think his legs were working. I didn't know what to do—," fresh waves of tears were soaking into her father's shirt. 

“Hey, you did great, Joanna.” 

“Can I see him?” she pulled back. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the man hesitated. 

“Please, Daddy?” 

“If I let you see him, will you go to sleep?” 

Joanna eyed her father suspiciously, “Deal.” 

She put the data pad down and held up her arms. McCoy groaned at the combination of lifting his daughter and the bone weary exhaustion that had settled. 

“You’re lucky you’re so adorable," he settled the child on her feet. 

Chapel was still tending to Jim when they approached, but quietly ducked out of their way.

“Your hand might tingle as it goes through the sterile field over the biobed, but you can hold his hand for a few minutes and then you’re going to rest young lady.” 

Joanna paused for a microsecond before reaching out and taking her Uncle Jim’s pliant hand. Her dad was right about the tingle, but it didn’t stop her. McCoy helped her perch on the side of the biobed so she didn’t have to reach so far. She studied Jim’s bruised and sweaty face, and quirked her head to listen to his wheezy breathing more carefully. 

“He’s breathing funny.” 

“I know, we’re giving him medication to make it better.” 

“Uncle Jim?” she gave the hand in hers a gentle squeeze. 

There was an uptick in the man’s heart rate; McCoy’s eyes shot up to the vitals display over the bed. He urged her to keep talking. 

“Uncle Jim, can you hear me?” 

The young captain didn’t open his eyes, but there was a faint roll of his head along the thin pillow. 

“Tell him he’s back on the ship.” 

“We’re on the _Enterprise_ and Daddy’s taking good care of you.” 

A soft exhale passed through Jim’s lips and he was back under just as quickly. 

“You did good,” McCoy kissed the side of Joanna’s head. “C’mon, let's get you to bed.” 

Joanna leaned her head on her father’s arm as he steered them out of sickbay and to his cabin. She whined as he tucked her into his bed but her eyelids drooped anyways. McCoy kicked his boots off and sat against the headboard with one hand on the top of her head. The girl was out before he could count to ten. He reached over with his free hand to grab a data pad that he’d left on his nightstand before they’d ever headed back to Terra. Nothing had happened to Jim according to the vitals feed he accessed from sickbay. 

_“Spock to McCoy_.” 

He jumped at the noise from the comm but Joanna didn’t even stir. 

“McCoy here,” he tabbed open the comm system. 

_“I wish to speak with you, Doctor McCoy.”_

“I’m with Joanna.” 

_“I understand, but it is of high importance that I speak with you.”_

“Can you come down here?” 

_“I will be there 1.8 minutes.”_

“Super,” McCoy closed the comm system before Spock could hear his sass. 

It was actually 1.9 minutes by the clock on his data pad. He ushered Spock into the separate seating area. 

“Is your daughter well?” Spock asked first. 

“Physically yes. Mentally, that’s another question.” 

“Understandable, Doctor.”

McCoy plopped down on his small sofa while the Vulcan remained standing with his arms behind his back. 

“I’m sure you’re not here to talk about Joanna?” 

“I am here for two reasons, the first being to inquire about the condition of Jim.” 

The doctor ran a heavy hand through his hair, “It’s not good, Spock. I have no idea about the extent of any permanent damage to his spinal cord.” 

“How did he acquire injuries to his back?” 

“Besides the obvious gashes clear across his back from some kind of barbed whip? It’s not completely unheard of to see spinal fractures in cases of electrocution. If the voltage is high enough the muscle contractions can be severe enough to break bone. It certainly fits with the burns and the cardiac muscle damage.” 

“There is damage to his heart?” Spock’s eyebrow arched.

McCoy only nodded. 

“What about the...lacerations...to his back?” the pause was barely perceptible but it was there. 

“We weren’t able to close them, the infection is too massive. I’ve got him on the strongest antibiotic we have but I can’t do anything else until the cultures come back. We did find something the computers can’t identify in his wounds.” 

“What’s your prognosis?” 

“It’s going to be one helluva fight. The infection is ravaging his already weakened system. Like Joanna, who knows what’s going on in his mind and how long it will take for him to recover mentally.” 

Spock nodded. 

“What was the other thing?” 

If a Vulcan could look uncomfortable, McCoy guessed Spock’s photo would be next to the definition. 

“We are being intercepted by the _USS Lexington_ and the _USS Exeter_ and escorted back to Starbase 1.” 

McCoy’s mouth fell open, “Two heavy cruisers to take us back?” 

“We did steal a starship, Doctor.” 

McCoy jumped up with a finger pointed at the Vulcan, “You stole a starship. I remember sitting in my cell not wanting to go with you.” 

“Would you rather still be incarcerated?” 

“Well, you and everyone else are about to join me when we get back. You know they’re going to arrest all of us right?” McCoy deflected the question. 

“I have considered there is a 98.2% chance that we will be held accountable for our crimes. I have deemed the results agreeable.” 

McCoy scoffed, “Just say happy you green-blooded freak.” 

“Since we have 7.6 hours until we dock, I suggest composing a report of the events so that our releases can be expedited.” 

“Who did this anyways?” 

“Do you recall Lenore Karidian?” 

“You gotta be shitting me.” 

“I assure you, Leonard, I am not.” 

“The last time I saw her we dropped her off at the looney bin after she killed her father while trying to kill Jim.” 

“From where she was released.” 

“Jesus H. Christ, how in the hell did that much crazy get let out?” 

“I am currently investigating her release, but clearly her time only strengthened her desire for revenge.”

“I didn’t see a body bag come on board so I assume you didn’t catch her?” 

“Affirmative, it appears that she had a beacon of some kind and was able to beam out before we apprehended her.” 

“Do you think she’ll try again?” 

“It is difficult to predict future behaviors of those with mental instabilities.” 

McCoy tossed an irritated wave at Spock and plopped down at the computer terminal on his desk to open a comm to his ex-wife; he would get plenty of sleep in jail. 

### 

“Per Starfleet Regulation 889.15 the transport of a patient is to be performed at the discretion of the attending physician,” McCoy stood protectively between the man on the biobed and the other one with a hand on his phaser. 

“Doctor McCoy, I am aware of the regulations, need I remind you that you are not in a position of authority and we are to arrest you and take you back to North Island Detention Facility at once?” 

Rage was boiling over the doctor. Starfleet MPs had swarmed the ship as soon as they docked and began arresting the crew. McCoy had the sense to have Scotty beam an extremely unhappy Joanna back to her mother while he high-tailed it to sickbay to get there before the MPs removed Jim. It infuriated him to think that they were going to take him planet side without any trained medical personnel in the shuttle with them. 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do with me. That man is not stable enough to go down in that rust bucket of yours without someone who knows what the hell they’re doing. One touch with your germy hands could kill him before you land. Do you want to be responsible for killing Captain James T. Kirk?” McCoy pointed an angry finger at the MP. 

The MP’s hand was firmly on the butt of his phaser, “Doctor, I advise you to calm down.”

“I will not calm down, dammit! I will not sit by in handcuffs while you idiots let him die. He is not going anywhere until I know he’ll survive the trip to SFM.” 

The man tried to inch himself closer to his charge, but the irate doctor raised the hypospray in his hand as a challenge. 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ve worked too damn hard to save that man and I’m not letting you fuck up my work out of your own ignorance,” McCoy seethed. 

_I'm not going to let him die._

Jim chose the most opportune time to de-sat causing the vitals alarm to blare loudly throughout the main bay and startle the men. 

“Not another step,” the MP drew his weapon on the doctor as he tried to bolt to his patient. 

“You'll just have to shoot me,” McCoy continued without looking over his shoulder 

McCoy paid no attention to the phaser pointed at him and got to work immediately. He couldn’t hear himself think so he silenced the blaring alarm. Finally with some quiet, he was able to see that Jim’s O2 sats had dropped to the low 80s but it was a result of the arrhythmia they were struggling to control. The antiarrhythmic they had him on was almost at its max dose. First things first, he had to get oxygen perfusing into Jim’s overworked organs. He knew the man hated it, but he increased the concentration of oxygen supplied by the biobed’s oxygen field and was rewarded with the sound of a deep inhale. After 30 migs of Tri-Ox his sats rose until the number on vitals display turned green again. McCoy upped the dosage of the arrhythmia meds and Jim’s heart fluttered back into a more acceptable rhythm. 

“C’mon, Jim,” he encouraged his stabilizing patient.

His best friend remained motionless, but he was secretly pleased with his impeccable timing that helped prove his point. 

He turned to the MP, “You want that to happen in the shuttle?” 

The MP flipped his comm open and asked for a doctor from the station to meet them in sickbay. McCoy was satisfied and let the MPs handcuff him while they waited for the captain to be moved to a medical shuttle. The doctor that did arrive was well known to be competent so McCoy stood back as Jim and all of his IV paraphernalia were transferred to a special gurney equipped with a permanent sterile field. 

Jim, encased in a light blue field, was loaded into a medical shuttle while he was steered into another one containing the other handcuffed Bridge officers.

“Doctor, has the captain been taken?” Spock looked more comfortable than everyone else with his arms cuffed behind his back. 

McCoy scowled at the MP who pushed him into a seat before taking a spot at the front of the cabin, “Yeah. The little shit tried to start something before they took him though.” 

“Iz he alright?” Chekov asked, looking extra nervous in handcuffs. 

“He will be as soon as he gets to SFM. I got a hold of Phil Boyce this morning and he’s going to meet him on the landing pad.” 

“That’s good,” Sulu was sitting next to Chekov. 

“Too bad he’s not here to see all of us like this,” Uhura smirked. 

McCoy did have to admit that it was kind of comical to see all of them handcuffed on the shuttle; a situation that could only be made better with Jim’s shit-eating grin as he joined them. 

“It is unlikely that they will keep us for an extended period of time.” 

“Hey, I could use some vacation,” Scotty scoffed. 

“What do you know, Meester Spock?” Chekov perked up. 

“Lieutenant Romina Hill will be waiting for our arrival at the detention facility.” 

“And who is she?” Uhura asked with a raised eyebrow. 

McCoy recognized the name, “Isn’t she that annoying JAG lawyer?” 

“Annoying, I am unsure of, but yes she is the lawyer I contacted upon your arrest.” 

“How do you know a JAG lawyer?” Uhura was more than curious now. 

Spock gave her the Vulcan equivalent of an eye roll, “She was a Starfleet attaché at the Vulcan Embassy. She is highly recommended by my father.” 

“You called your dad for help?” McCoy‘s eyebrow arched. 

“Yes I did, he is more knowledgeable in legal matters,” Spock completely missed the barb. 

The shuttle lifted off its pad and flew free of the _Enterprise,_ with the rest of the journey passing in silence. Poor Chekov jumped out of his seat when the shuttle landed with a thud. He knew his mamulya would be heartbroken to see her boy cuffed and headed to prison. The door opened and a very sour looking guard walked in with his baton ready.

“Everyone out, no talking, and walk straight to the building,” he ordered the group. 

They walked single-file out of the shuttle and into the main receiving area inside the detention facility. McCoy saw the JAG lawyer waiting for them. 

“No one say anything to anyone, Admiral Liu is on her way,” she ordered the group as they were taken to a holding cell. 

Hill had managed to hold off their processing with the threat that the head of JAG herself was on her way. Once inside the cell they passed their arms through a small opening in the door and their handcuffs were removed. The officers crammed themselves on the two benches in the middle of the room. 

McCoy chuckled inwardly; this brought back memories from one of their shore leaves at Risa. He and Jim had one glass (or several) of Romulan Ale too many and no one knew what happened other than that they woke up incredibly hung over in a cell just like this one with Spock looking rather unhappy on the other side of the bars. The Vulcan wouldn’t divulge what they had been caught doing; his only response was to ‘forget the event so that we can move past it’. Whatever they did probably explained why they hadn’t received any shore leave on Risa since then. 

Sulu was trying to take Chekov’s mind off the fact that he was in prison with some alien hand game while Scotty had leaned up against the wall to doze. Uhura had laid her head on Spock’s rigid shoulder. 

“Chekov, Pavel Andreievich,” A guard bellowed with a wave of his hand. 

The young ensign nervously approached the cell door and spun around so that his hands could be handcuffed. 

“Come with me,” the door opened. 

The kid nervously stepped out and disappeared from sight. Spock estimated that nearly two hours passed before the guard returned to take their helmsman without bringing their navigator back. Two hours later, Uhura was escorted out of the cell. 

"Do you reckon they're being released or moved?" McCoy asked after Scotty's departure three hours later. 

"I am not certain, there is not enough information to make a hypothesis." 

Four more hours passed before they heard a grouped people approaching their cell. They had figured out the selection pattern after Uhura so McCoy got up and approached the door to be handcuffed. With the burly guard and the JAG lawyer was an unhappy looking admiral with a knot of grey hair at the top of her head. 

"I'm Liu, head of JAG," there was a hint of a German accent in her voice. 

Spock joined McCoy standing up, "Admiral, what has happened to the rest of the crew?" 

Her face remained impassive; "They have been questioned and released on probation, with permanent remarks in their records. Their part in this fiasco was deemed too minor to take to an Article 32 hearing. You two on the other hand are in quite a situation. Doctor McCoy, you are still not off the hook from your previous charges before Commander Spock decided to break you out of prison to steal a starship." 

When it was put that way, things definitely seemed worse than they thought. 

“An investigative officer is being assigned for both of you to determine if a court martial is warranted. Hill has agreed to represent both of you as your legal counsel should you accept.” 

McCoy and Spock nodded. 

“Good, you will remain at this detention facility until your hearings can be scheduled. Any questions?” 

“What about Lenore Karidian?” Spock asked. 

“We’ve sent out alerts across Federation space but we have not found her yet.” 

McCoy whipped his head around, “Are you even trying? That bitch kidnapped my child and tortured a Starfleet captain.” 

“I’m aware of her crimes, Doctor McCoy, but there are a lot of places to hide in this galaxy. We’re doing what we can to find her while keeping Captain Kirk _and_ your daughter out of this. Is there anything else?” 

“No ma’am,” McCoy replied. 

“Very well,” she spun on her boot heels and left. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow to meet with both of you to prepare,” Hill added before following the admiral. 

“You two up here,” the guard, carrying two sets of cuffs, ordered. 

After being handcuffed, the two officers were led through the prison to the processing area. 

### 

“Please state your full name and rank for the records.” 

McCoy stood ramrod straight in his dress greys, “Leonard Horatio McCoy, Lieutenant Commander, Chief Medical Officer, _USS Enterprise_.” 

“By order of the Starfleet Code of Military Justice I call this Article 32 hearing to determine if there is enough warrant for a court martial for Lieutenant Commander McCoy, _USS Enterprise._ I am Commander Koichi Satou, _USS Cherokee_.” 

The commander behind the bench did not look thrilled to have been called to oversee the investigation. McCoy hoped that this would be over quickly, it had been three days since they had been arrested. That was three days without any word about his daughter or Jim. 

“Please be seated,” Satou ordered. 

McCoy, his JAG counsel, and the JAG prosecutor on the other side of the aisle sat down. 

He had been instructed to remain quiet throughout the proceedings and let the lawyer say everything for him unless directly prompted from the investigating officer. 

“We will begin with a reading of the charges. They are one count of kidnapping under Article 134 and one count of larceny and wrongful appropriation of Starfleet property under Article 79. Lieutenant Commander McCoy, do you understand the charges brought against you?” 

“I do sir.”

“Lieutenant Commander, per Starfleet’s regulations you have the right to make a statement or remain silent, how would you like to proceed?” 

“Remain silent, sir.” 

“Very well. Would the counsel for Starfleet please present any available evidence for these charges?” 

“Ensign Fatma Mubarak representing Starfleet prosecution, Commander,” the Egyptian prosecutor rose from her desk. “I have here a legally obtained confession from Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy. In this video he confessed to kidnapping Captain James Kirk, Commanding Officer of the _USS Enterprise_. In addition to the kidnapping, he also confessed to unlawfully taking a shuttle from the ship.” 

Satou nodded, “I’ve reviewed the confession, please continue.” 

McCoy grimaced; he wished he hadn't confessed despite thinking that his entire world had shattered around him. He should’ve known better. 

“In addition to the confession we have the security feed from the _USS Enterprise_ of Captain Kirk’s abduction and theft of the shuttle.” 

“Again, I have already seen the footage so we will continue. Does Starfleet have any witnesses against the accused Ensign Mubarak?”

“No sir, Starfleet does not have any witnesses to call at this time.” 

The lead officer nodded and the prosecutor sat down. McCoy took a good look at her. She was considerably younger than anyone else in the room, and this was most likely one of her first solo cases as a Starfleet JAG officer. 

“Lieutenant Hill, you may present any evidence now.” 

“Thank you, sir. I would like to submit this police report filed by McCoy’s former wife. It details the abduction of his daughter, Joanna Elizabeth McCoy, from her hometown of Mableton, Georgia,” Hill gave Satou a data pad with the file already loaded. 

The commander read over the document while Hill continued talking, “In addition to the police reports you will find several communiqués containing text and images sent to the Lieutenant Commander from an unknown assailant.” 

McCoy visibly paled just thinking about the photos he had been sent. 

“These missives detail explicit instructions to deliver Captain Kirk or there would be grievous harm enacted towards his daughter.” 

“How were these obtained?” Satou looked up. 

“They were provided by the communications officer aboard the _Enterprise_. They were discovered in their efforts to rescue Captain Kirk and Joanna McCoy. You will see the audit trail attached at the end of the messages.” 

“Continue,” he looked back down to the data pad. 

“These messages, and the fact that both his daughter and the captain were found being detained against their will shows enough proof that McCoy was under duress and cannot be accountable for his confessed crimes. From Starfleet v. Jemmings, ‘1 M.J. 414 the threat against the accused’s children can raise the defense of duress’.” 

“And what of Captain Kirk and Miss McCoy now?” 

McCoy leaned forward ever so slightly hoping for news. 

“The captain is listed as being in critical condition at Starfleet Medical, sir. The daughter is recovering at home in Georgia with her family.” 

“Was she physically injured?” Satou asked. 

“Yes sir, she was. There were injuries to her foot reported. Mentally, she was debriefed by a child psychologist from Starfleet and referred to a private practice near her residence to continue treatment.” 

None of what the lawyer said was enough to satisfy the doctor and he wanted more. 

“How were the injuries obtained?” 

“The reports from the treating nurse on the _Enterprise_ , an Ensign Mary Hayes, said that they were obtained during transfer onto a warp capable ship after her abduction here on Terra.” 

“And Captain Kirk?” 

McCoy swallowed. 

“He was tortured.” 

Satou sat up in his chair, “By whom?” 

“Per Admiral Liu’s order, the name has been classified until they are captured.” 

The investigating officer didn’t appreciate the deflection, “Continue.” 

“In the absence of witnesses, I have over a dozen depositions from the senior command crew of the _Enterprise_ and the security team that conducted the retrieval of his daughter and Captain Kirk. They have all confirmed their availability should we proceed to a court martial.” 

Satou nodded and the lawyer sent the document packet to the data pad she had given him. 

“Is there anything else Lieutenant?” 

“No, sir,” she took a seat. 

“Lieutenant Commander McCoy, are you satisfied with your right to remain silent?” 

He jumped at being called on, “Yes, sir.” 

“Ensign Mubarak, is there anything Starfleet would like to add?” Satou turned to the prosecution’s table. 

“No, sir.” 

“Very well, we will recess so that I have a chance to review what’s been presented,” Satou stood. 

The two lawyers and McCoy followed rose until he left the room with a stack of data pads under his arms. The prosecutor left with a sympathetic smile thrown in McCoy’s direction. 

“Doing okay?” Hill spun on her boot heels to ask her client.

“Do you have any more news about my daughter or Jim?” he blurted out. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t. I’ve been tied up preparing your and Commander Spock’s defense. I only have the basics necessary for the case.” 

McCoy nodded and followed her out of the hearing room.

“With any luck this won’t take too long. I have Commander Spock’s hearing in two hours.” 

### 

McCoy’s decision did not come in two hours so he was forced to sit in on Spock’s hearing since the lawyer was technically responsible for him while out of the detention center. He was told to sit in the back row and be ‘quieter than a mouse’. 

“Please state your full name and rank for the records.” 

Spock stood ever so rigid in his dress greys, “As my full Vulcan name is unpronounceable in your tongue I will state that my name is Spock of the house Sarek, Commander, First Officer, _USS Enterprise_.” 

“Per the Starfleet Code of Military Justice I call this Article 32 hearing to begin to determine if there is enough evidence to recommend a general court martial for Commander Spock, _USS Enterprise._ I am Captain Marta Lambert, Starfleet Core R&D.” 

The captain with a tightly pulled braid at the bench brought everything to order quickly, no doubt not wanting to be there either. Like civil jury duty, Starfleet called on everyone. 

“Please be seated,” Lambert ordered. 

The group at the front took their seats. 

“We will begin with a reading of the charges,” apparently there was a script for these things. “They are one count of conspiracy to commit unlawful appropriation of Starfleet property under Article 81, one count of larceny and wrongful appropriation of Starfleet property under Article 79, one count of releasing a prisoner without authorization under Article 96, one count of trespassing on restricted Starfleet property under Article 100, and one count of noncompliance with procedures under article 121. Commander Spock, do you understand the charges brought against you?” 

_Jesus H. Christ that hobgoblin is up shit creek._

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Commander, per Starfleet’s regulations you have the right to make a statement or remain silent, how would you like to proceed?” 

“I will remain silent, ma’am.” 

“Will the counsel for Starfleet please present any available evidence for these charges?” 

“Lieutenant Commander Mohammad Dashti representing Starfleet, Commander,” the aging Middle-Eastern prosecutor rose from his desk. “I am submitting to this investigation the report from a security guard who was disarmed by the Commander during his unlawful entry into North Island Detention Facility and the subsequent ‘jailbreak’, for lack of better terms, of Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy.” 

The investigating officer raised an eyebrow. 

“I would also like to submit diagnostic reports from Star Base 1 as to a lack of cause for the _Enterprise’s_ emergency that necessitated its emergency release whereupon Commander Spock commandeered the vessel to stage an unauthorized rescue mission on an abandoned Federation colony.” 

Hill stood up, “Ma’am, that report is all circumstantial evidence based on the engineers’ hunches.”

“I would like to point out that the engineers could be considered experts.”

“Counselors, remember that this is just an Article 32 hearing. I’ll accept the reports for now.”

“Yes ma’am,” they both replied.

“Does Starfleet have any witnesses against the accused?” 

“No ma’am, Starfleet does not have any witnesses to call at this time.” 

Lambert nodded and the prosecutor took his seat, “Hill, you may present any evidence now.”

“Thank you, ma’am. First I would like to submit a packet of depositions taken from the _Enterprise’s_ senior command officers and those that were a part of the team that rescued Joanna McCoy and Captain James Kirk. In there you’ll find that Commander Spock was acting in the best interests of the ones they rescued. I have previously supplied the reports from Lieutenant Commander McCoy’s hearing with regard to the nature of why these actions were warranted. In several of the reports, including two from Captain Kirk’s treating medical personnel, it was unlikely that he would have survived if not for the timely arrival of Commander Spock. The traditional view adopted by Starfleet is that ‘one is allowed to act in the defense of another’. This was seen in Starfleet v. Regalado, SF.C.R. 33-12; Starfleet v. Hernandez, SF.C.R. 19-21; Starfleet v. Cole, SF.C.R 42-97. As Captain Kirk and Joanna McCoy were in mortal peril, it was within the Commander’s right to use the available resources to retrieve them. As for ‘stealing the _Enterprise_ ’ per Lieutenant Commander Dashti’s report, it is coincidence that mechanical problems led to an emergency release and then they were unable to contact Command once the problem had been resolved. According to sensor logs, with some distance between them and Terra’s subspace nets, they were able to detect a transponder signal that had been inserted into Captain Kirk.” 

“Do you have any proof of this ‘coincidence’ Lieutenant?” Lambert looked over her data pad skeptically. 

“Yes ma’am, I do. I would like to submit this magneto-plasmic couple,” Hill hefted a charred mess of electrical parts on Lambert’s desk. “According to Chief Engineer Scott, this faulty piece of equipment caused the antimatter containment field to destabilize. In accordance with emergency procedures, they cleared Space Dock to further assess the situation. This also caused a neighboring comm relay to surge which explains the difficulty with communications.” 

_She just has an answer for everything._

A brief smile flashed over Hill’s face, “I can submit the destroyed comm relays if you would like them, ma’am.”

“That’s not necessary,” Lambert poked at the crispy remains of some indistinguishable electrical component. 

“Thank you, ma’am, it’s quite heavy.” 

“Am I to assume that you also have an explanation for your client’s involvement in releasing McCoy from the North Island Detention Facility as well?” 

“Of course, ma’am. As the Chief Medical Officer, McCoy is the primary physician for Captain Kirk and the father of Joanna McCoy. It was only logical that he be included in the rescue party. I have Doctor McCoy’s report and another treating surgeon’s statement that state that Captain Kirk would have succumbed to his injuries had Doctor McCoy not been present.” 

“The other physician on board wasn’t qualified to handle Captain Kirk’s injuries? Are you saying this M’Benga was incompetent?” Lambert set her data pad down and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“No ma’am, Doctor M’Benga is one of the best in Starfleet. What I am saying is that the Captain’s injuries were severe enough that McCoy was also needed. He is the Captain’s primary doctor; no one knew his medical history any better.” 

McCoy thought that was a rather flimsy argument. He was still curious as to why Spock broke him out of jail. The situation vaguely mirrored one of his own making from several years ago, one where he brought a disgraced cadet onto the _Enterprise_ before it warped into a crisis. He’d done it then because he couldn’t have left Jim out of the action. 

“The treating surgeon is here if you would like for confirmation,” Hill turned so the investigating officer could see McCoy sitting quietly in the back. 

“Are you McCoy or M’Benga?” Lambert asked him directly. 

He was startled at the sudden attention, “Uh, McCoy, ma’am.” 

“Approach, McCoy,” she waved her hand. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he straightened his dress jacket as he stood up. 

The doctor stopped in the aisle between the two lawyer’s desks. Spock gave the doctor a slight nod. 

“I object, I haven’t been given a chance to interview this witness,” Dashti was furious. 

“I understand, sit down,” she ordered the prosecutor. “Full name and rank, McCoy.”

“Leonard Horatio McCoy, Lieutenant Commander, Chief Medical Officer, _USS Enterprise_.” 

“You’re Captain Kirk’s physician?” 

_Unfortunately_ , “Yes ma’am.” 

“Do you think your presence was necessary for the Captain’s survival?” 

McCoy could feel a bead of sweat drip down the back of his neck and into the stiff collar of his dress uniform with being put on the spot. Vulcans didn’t lie, but they could dodge around the truth. M’Benga was more than competent enough to have handled the Captain alone, McCoy wouldn’t have selected him to be a part of the crew otherwise. What Spock and M’Benga had done was subtle; they let him regain some sense of control in rebuilding his life that had recently shattered.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Care to elaborate, Doctor McCoy?” Lambert was leaning on her arms on the desk. 

“Captain Kirk’s injuries were beyond severe; he’d been tortured for nearly a week. Every second saved not having to look in his records for his history was spent on stabilizing him.” 

“So do you think the Commander’s actions were necessary?” Lambert stared at him.

McCoy squared his shoulders, “That’s not my place to judge, ma’am. Hindsight is 20/20 but Captain Kirk is alive.” 

“Yes he is, thank you, Doctor McCoy. You may be seated.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he pulled his collar free from his neck as soon as he made it back to his seat.

“Is there anything else Lieutenant?” Lambert was stacking her data pads. 

“No, ma’am,” she took a seat. 

“Commander Spock, are you satisfied with your right to remain silent?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Lieutenant Commander Dashti, is there anything Starfleet would like to add?” Lambert turned to the prosecution’s table. 

“No, ma’am.” 

“This hearing will recess so that I have a chance to review the evidence and make my recommendation,” Lambert stood. 

Everyone else in the room stood at attention until the investigating officer left the room. McCoy bolted to Spock. 

“Any news on Jim?” Spock asked. 

“I don’t have anything either,” McCoy ran a hand through his hair. “How long until we know anything?” 

Hill shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know.” 

### 

McCoy skidded to a halt just inside Jim’s ICU bay. 

“Alright people, we’re going to do this nice and slow,” Boyce ordered the handful of nurses gathered around the bedside. 

“Ward, watch his airway. One the count of three.” 

“Aye sir,” echoed around the room from the nurses. 

McCoy stood motionless watching the swollen and battered body of his best friend hovering six inches above the biobed. Modern medicine certainly still had its gruesome moments. 

“Three, two, one, mark.” 

Inch by agonizing inch Jim’s sheet clad body was rotated a complete 180 degrees so that the man was suspended face down. The small army of nurses stood watch over and kept the myriad of tubes and wires from tangling during the maneuver. If the sight of Jim hovering was gruesome then his oozing back was on an entirely different scale. The still open gashes were filled with green-yellow gauze and were the epicenter of red streaks underneath his jaundiced skin. 

McCoy swallowed hard, “What the hell is goin’ on?” 

“Nice to see you too, Leonard. I’m certainly grateful that you’re not going to be court martialed,” Boyce looked up with a quick smile. 

“No one told me it was this bad,” he stared at the damage in horror. 

“Well, it seems he’s trying to be tricky again. Clairmont, the infections specialist, and I have thrown everything in the galaxy at him and this infection is just running rampant in his system. I’ve gone in and debrided these wounds twice and nothing is slowing the infection down.” 

McCoy grimaced as Boyce pulled a long piece of sodden packing gauze from a wound. 

“Organ failure?” McCoy had already seen the tube down Jim’s trachea and the lines carrying blood in and out of his forearm to be cleansed externally. 

“Yeah. His respiratory system held out the longest. We had to intubate two days ago. He’d been holding his sats for a while; I’m actually kind of impressed given the amount of stress on his system. His kidneys were the first to go; I had to put him on dialysis.”

Another piece of wet gauze splattered noisily in a dish a nurse was holding out. Jim was dependent on technology from the dark ages to keep his body alive until they could solve the problem. 

“I’ve put in a temporary pacer until he’s strong enough to ablate. It’s doing fairly well at controlling the arrhythmias for now.” 

McCoy twisted his back to see two thin wires trailing out from underneath Jim’s collarbone. From there he could also see an IV port hanging from its entry point in his swollen neck. 

“His spine?” 

“There’s still a lot of swelling; his body hasn’t had the energy to fight that with everything else going on. I don’t want to make any predictions just yet.” 

There was still hope that Jim wouldn’t be paralyzed _if_ he survived the infection. The doctor wanted to keep asking questions, but he was likely annoying Boyce so he pulled the data pad from its slot at the foot of the biobed and swiped through Jim’s chart. Things were not good at all. It was problem after problem that was sapping away all of the man’s strength and energy. Jim was dying. 

“Okay, let’s get him turned back over. Leonard, want to assist?” Boyce finished packing the last piece of fresh gauze into an inflamed chasm on Jim’s back. 

He was sure Boyce knew he had been suspended for the next three months as a part of his non-judicial punishment but he jumped at the opportunity to help.

“You watch the vent, Leonard.” 

McCoy took the spot up at Jim’s head and took hold of the tube supplying his best friend’s body with oxygen. Boyce counted down and slowly the nurses inched Jim’s body around so that he was face up again, all while McCoy kept the tube positioned correctly ensuring no disruption in the oxygen flow.

“Everyone set?” Boyce looked around for confirmation. “Okay, bringing him down.” 

The lead doctor manned the controls at the foot of the biobed that brought Jim’s body down so that it was only a few centimeters from the surface. The nurses made sure all of the lines were untangled and pulled the sheet up from his waist before leaving the doctors alone.

“Jesus H Christ, Phil,” McCoy ran a trembling hand through his hair. 

“He’s fighting hard, Leonard,” Boyce clapped McCoy on his shoulder as he left. 

McCoy looked down at the sick man. 

“God, Jim,” McCoy fell into the high back chair next to the bed. 

He flinched as he took hold of Jim’s clammy and swollen hand. McCoy knew the hand would be cold instead of burning with the fever as the oxygen failed to make it to the extremities. The biobed’s pressure field did what it could to help with perfusion, but it could only do so much while running an immobilization and sterile field around its occupant that was currently hovering three centimeters off its surface. 

There was a plastic frame around his upper arm protecting a hastily fused humerus. The IV in the back of his hand was delivering a powerful cocktail of antibiotics and other supportive meds trying to sustain the fight against the microscopic invaders laying siege. Another line snaked its way out of his jugular vein and branched off into three separate lines delivering fluids, nutrition, and monitoring his cardiac output. He wanted to see Jim’s eyes, but one was swollen shut and the other taped to keep the lid from opening unintentionally and causing damage during all of the movement it took to treat his back. 

“I have a lot to tell you. You’ve missed a hell of a week and Joanna is driving her mother up the wall. Though I technically have to thank you for that one, Jocelyn certainly deserves it.” 

There was no response from his friend. 

"She's just fine, F-Y-I. She said you took care of her foot, which was completely healed by the time we got back to Terra. Her psychologist said she was a tenacious thing and she was processing everything as well as she could be." 

Not even a twitch. 

"You've missed a legal shit storm of epic proportions. Spock is still waiting to hear the recommendations from his Article 32 hearing." 

Nothing but the steady hiss-click from the biobed's respiratory support system echoed throughout the room. 

"I got the decision from mine this morning. I've been suspended for three months with a permanent remark in my records to go next to the one I got from bringing you aboard the _Enterprise_."

Zip. 

“The rest of the command crew got notes in their records. Uhura was spouting some Starfleet B-S about how they weren’t directly responsible, but went along with Spock’s crazy-ass plan to bust me out of jail and steal the _Enterprise._ ” 

McCoy gave the limp hand a firm squeeze. 

“They wouldn’t tell me anything until today. I only knew you were still alive.” 

The display panel connected to the pacing lines chirped with a flashing yellow light. McCoy quickly let go of Jim’s hand. A tense twenty seconds passed as the device did its job correcting the rhythm from the damaged heart. 

“Don’t do that shit while I’m here,” McCoy reclaimed Jim’s icy hand.

It was only a minute later when an Andorian nurse came in to check and make sure everything was as it should be after the cardiac episode. She only did what she needed to and left without saying a word to McCoy. 

“I see your nurse is a ray of sunshine. You better hope she’s not the one giving you sponge baths,” McCoy swallowed hard. “I want you to know, Jim, I’m going to do everything I can to get you through this. I never should have let you go through with your harebrained scheme. I should’ve known better; we should’ve come up with a better plan where you didn’t have to sacrifice yourself. They didn’t have Joanna after they dragged you off the shuttle and I just lost it. I know it’s an excuse, but I wasn’t getting my daughter back and I had just sent my best friend to die.” 

It was a fool’s hope to wish for a reply; coupled with his body’s own exhaustion there was a steady stream of sedatives and analgesics flowing into his veins. The chirping of the comm unit in his pocket startled him out of his thoughts. He was grateful a nurse wasn’t around to give him a stern look. 

“McCoy,” he flipped open the cover without looking at the screen. 

“Daddy?” a sweet voice filtered through the small speaker. 

“Hey, sweetpea. What are you up to?” 

“I miss you.”

McCoy was too busy talking to his daughter to notice the brief spike on the vitals displayed above the biobed. 

“Aww, I miss you too, sweetpea.” 

“Momma said you got back from your trip.” 

McCoy rested his hand holding the comm on his head; he didn’t want the girl to know he’d been in jail. 

“I did, this morning. It wasn’t much fun though.” 

“Did Starfleet people come to talk to you like they did here?” she was unusually perceptive. 

“I had to go to them. Not all of us are special like you young lady.”

Joanna was quiet before asking her next question, “How’s Uncle Jim?” 

McCoy let out a huff, “He’s incredibly sick, Joanna.” 

“Sicker?” 

“Yes ma’am, he’s much sicker than before.” 

“I want to come visit.” 

McCoy pursed his lips, “That’s not a good idea.” 

“Daddy, I am coming and you can either pick me up at the terminal or I will take a cab.” 

He could see her determined eyes all the way on the other side of the country. 

_You are your mother’s child and clearly picked up a dash of Jim’s stubbornness_. 

“Does your mom know?”

“Not yet.” 

“Joanna, let me give her a comm before you tell her.” 

“Great! I’ll see you soon, Daddy!” 

“Alright, Joanna. I love you, sweetpea.”

“I love you more,” the little girl was clearly happy she got her way as she ended the connection. 

McCoy shook his head as he started typing in a new signal address.

“Lord help me when she starts dating,” he waited for his ex-wife to answer. 

### 

The young girl stomping down the jet way at the terminal was on a mission. It took another two days before Jocelyn broke and put the girl on a shuttle to San Francisco. 

McCoy bent down to pull her in a crushing hug, “Hey, sweetpea.” 

“Hi, Daddy.” 

“Was the flight okay?” he took the small bag from her hand. 

“This annoying man sat next to me. He snored so loud and he smelled like salami.” 

“That sounds rough.” 

“Can we go see Uncle Jim?” she got right down to business.

“Yeah, c’mon. They took him to surgery this morning to help his back more, but he should be done by the time we get there.” 

Joanna nodded and took her father’s hand. He led them out of the busy terminal and to the parking structure where Spock’s borrowed hovercar was waiting for them. The Vulcan certainly had good taste when it came to vehicles. Joanna slid into the passenger seat and buckled her harness. The hovercar responded to McCoy’s commands as he steered them onto the freeway. 

“Before we get there, I just want to let you know what you’re gonna see. It’s not pretty.” 

Joanna wordlessly turned her head away from the road to face her father. 

“There’s lots of bruising and swelling. The infection is taking a lot out of him and nothing else has healed yet. There’s also going to be a lot of tubes and wires going in and out of him. It’s scary looking but they’re all there to help him.” 

“Does he feel any of it?” Joanna turned back to stare at the road. 

“No, sweetpea. He’s getting the good stuff. It makes him sleep.” 

The rest of the ride to SFM was spent in silence as the two passengers pondered the fate of the man they were on their way to see. Uhura and Spock were sitting with Jim by the time they arrived. Ultimately Spock narrowly missed being court martialed for his actions. Instead he’d been given a heavier punishment including a demotion to Lieutenant Commander. 

“Nyota!” Joanna disengaged herself from her father’s hand and ran to outstretched arms. 

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Jo,” Uhura pulled the girl in for a hug. 

“Greetings, Miss McCoy,” Spock greeted the girl staring at him over his partner’s shoulder. 

“Hey, Spock.” 

“Did you have a good flight?” Uhura let go as Joanna pulled back. 

“It was okay.” 

“We’ve got a lot to catch up on now that you’re here. I learned how to do this awesome new braid from Risa.” 

Joanna eagerly agreed. The two adults shifted ever so slightly and the girl got her first peek at her Uncle Jim. The mood in the room quickly took a sad turn when the girl’s smile fell. Spock and Uhura moved out of her way after a nod from McCoy. 

The little girl was silent as she took in the sight of the battered and swollen body hovering a few inches off the surface of the biobed. 

“Joanna?” McCoy asked softly. 

“We’ll come back later,” Uhura whispered as she pulled Spock out of the door with her. 

“Can you fix him?” Joanna finally spoke. 

“They’re doing everything they can.” 

“Can he hear us?” 

“You never know, it can’t hurt to talk to him. I’m sure he’s ready for someone new to talk to him.” 

Joanna closed the gap to the bed with an outstretched hand but pulled it back; she didn’t know where it was safe to touch with all the tubes going in and out his hand and arm. 

“His hand is fine,” McCoy saw the hesitation. 

“Why is his hand cold?” her fingers closed around his. 

“Well, the oxygen is havin’ a hard time getting to his hands and feet.”

“Is he going to die?”

McCoy crouched down to be eye level with his little girl and sucked in a deep breath. 

“I don’t know, Joanna,” the father said after exhaling slowly. “He’s getting worse instead of getting better.” 

“Why can’t you help him?” 

“We are sweetpea, he’s got the best doctors and nurses in the galaxy helping him.” 

Joanna nodded and turned back to her favorite uncle, “Uncle Jim?” 

The only response was the mechanized motion of lungs being inflated and IV pumps infusing. 

“Uncle Jim, it’s me Joanna. I want you to know I held up my part of the deal and you owe me the ice cream with the gold spoon,” she gave the cold hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Had McCoy not been paying attention to the biomonitors for any sign of a reaction, he would’ve missed the vitals spike. 

“Jim?” he was instantly alert. 

“What was it?” Joanna desperately searched for any sign of movement from the biobed.

“Keep talking to him, sweetpea,” McCoy gently peeled the protective tape off of Jim’s good eye.

“Jim can you hear me?” 

The eyeball underneath rolled around lazily.

“Daddy says to talk to you, but there’s not a lot to say. I went back to school for a few days but now we have a break so I came see you. Everyone at school kept asking annoying questions about where I’d been.” 

Jim’s heart rate and BP were climbing. Joanna squealed with excitement when fingers curled ever so slightly around her own. 

“What happened?” McCoy was trying to track all of the changes on the biomonitors.

The IV controller chimed, one of the medication cartridges was empty. The doctor looked closely at its label and saw that it was the one keeping Jim out of pain. 

“I see it, Jim, hang on,” he slammed his hand down on the comm panel. 

There was no reply from the nurse’s station.

“What the hell?” 

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Joanna was getting anxious. 

“Just keep talking to him. I need to go find his nurse.” 

Joanna didn’t have time to look back at her father leaving, there was noticeable pressure squeezing her hand. 

“Uncle Jim, I’m here,” she squeezed back. “Daddy’s gone to get help.” 

By now multiple alarms from the monitors were chirping. 

“Can you open your eye?” Joanna moved further up the bed. 

It took several agonizing seconds but a sliver of crystal blue appeared from underneath the dark lashes. 

“Can you see me?” the girl was almost nose-to-nose with the man. 

There was a gentle squeeze of her fingers.

“Daddy’s gone to get help. You’re going to be okay soon.”

The eye shifted up and down, scanning the girl. 

“I’m okay too, Uncle Jim. I’ve gone back to school already.” 

The lid closed in relief and the grip on her hand slackened. The chirping alarm picked up speed until it blared a more intense tone. Joanna jumped back from the biobed in fright, and let go of the hand she was holding. She didn’t have time to process what was going on as someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away. One minute the room was empty and then next it was packed full of people in a frenzy. 

“Joanna?” she had to blink several times to realize that her father was in front of her and they were in some other room with lots of chairs. “You with me?” 

“What happened?” 

“One of his medications ran out and it caused him to wake up.” 

“Is he okay?” 

“His injuries are causing him a lot of pain but they’re going to fix it. Sometimes being very sick and in that much pain can make the person sicker.” 

Joanna nodded, not really knowing what was going on but knowing it wasn’t good, “Did I cause it?” 

“Heavens no,” McCoy replied immediately. “His medicines are controlled by machines so sometimes they run out. It’s just like you putting new cartridges in the replicator at home when the old one is empty.” 

“Can we go back?” 

“Not for a while. Let’s go home and come back first thing in the morning. You’ve had a long day of traveling.” 

“But—“ 

“No ‘buts’ young lady. I promise we’ll come back tomorrow.” 

Joanna tried to whine but a sturdy hand at her back pushed her further and further away. 

### 

“Yeah, I know. I talked to Phil a little while ago after his rounds.” 

Joanna’s eyes flew open at the sound of her father’s voice echoing from the living room in his apartment. 

“No she’s still asleep.” 

She remained quiet to hear the conversation. 

“Well, neither one of us are allowed anywhere near the labs to analyze that crap from his back.” 

The other end of the conversation was too quiet so she only got her father’s side. 

“Yeah, they had the dispensing program set up so that it kept his pain levels within a set range and he was burning through it a lot more quickly than they anticipated and the medication ran out before nursing rounds...They’re keeping him sedated still...I don’t know either you green-blooded bastard!” 

He was talking to Mister Spock. 

“He can’t fight everything…no I know...What about Carol?” 

Joanna carefully slipped out of the bed and tiptoed to the door. 

“She’s at R&D the last I heard…Spock, I don’t know what else to do. If we don’t try anything he will die anyways.” 

The little girl jumped back at her father’s harsh words. She clambered back to the bed and pulled the blankets over her head. 

“They can’t get the sepsis under control with all of the trouble they’re having keeping his pain levels down enough to not further stress his body. Whatever that crap I found in there is bound to his pain receptors and the analgesics are having a hard time competing against it.” 

Not only was her Uncle Jim dying, he was in a tremendous amount of pain. 

“He must’ve been down too far for anyone to notice until Joanna talked to him. She must’ve pulled him up.” 

It _was_ her fault.

“Yeah, he woke up briefly for her. It was right before he coded yesterday…I know. Has anyone gotten a hold of his mother yet?” 

She was doing her best to keep the tears welling up from falling. 

“Alright, Spock…We’ll be by later to sit with him for a little while, at this rate it won’t be long...Yep.” 

The soft chime indicated that the comm unit had been turned off and the conversation over. She held her breath as soon as her father’s footsteps approached the bedroom door. 

“Joanna?” McCoy whispered. 

She continued to steady her breathing. It was no use, the bed dipped down from her father’s weight as he sat on the edge next to her. 

“Joanna, you gonna sleep all day?” the blankets were pulled down. “Joanna, what’s wrong?”

“Is it almost over?” she mumbled into the pillow. 

“Is what almost over, sweetpea?” McCoy wiped away a falling tear with his thumb. 

“Will Uncle Jim die soon?” 

McCoy exhaled. He had been putting up a stoic front for his daughter but it had begun to crumble. 

“I don’t know.” 

“How can you not know?” she pushed herself upright. 

“Well, despite how far medicine has come in the last few centuries, it’s still tricky. No one has all the answers. Jim may die in the next hour or he may hold on and beat this. The key here is to have faith in him. He’ll give up if you give up on him.” 

“Did you give up on him?” 

McCoy paused before answering, “I did there for a little while, but a certain young lady reminded me not to. He needs our help to get through this.”

“What can we do?” 

“Well, for one we’ll go visit him later and make sure he knows he still owes you fancy ice cream.” 

“But that won’t fix him.” 

“No, it won’t, but he’ll know we are there with him.” 

“I don’t know…”

“The doctors and nurses take care of his physical needs, we need to be there to help the rest of him.”

“Why can’t you fix him?”

“It’s kinda complicated, sweetpea. I’m in some trouble and I’ve been put in a sort of...time out. I can’t be a doctor at the hospital right now for a while.” 

“What did you do?”

McCoy inwardly groaned, he had to backpedal fast, “I promise to tell you when you’re older.”

“Was it _that_ bad?” 

The father smirked, “It was pretty bad.”

Joanna was sharp and was already connecting the dots, “Was it something to do with Uncle Jim coming to rescue me?”

“Somewhat; we did everything we could think of to come get you. Don’t worry about it, sweetpea.”

“You promise you’ll tell me?” 

“Absolutely,” he made a crossing motion over his heart. 

“Fine. I’m going to be waiting for this so don’t ever forget,” Joanna huffed knowing she wasn’t going to get an answer anytime soon. 

“Good. Now, I don’t know about you, but I know a father who is mighty hungry right now,” his stomach emphasized his hunger rather loudly. 

“Me too,” she swung her feet over the side of the bed. 

“What do you want for breakfast? We can go out to get something or I can fix something here.” 

“Nana says you always burn the pancakes.”

“Fine then, we’ll go out,” he dropped to the floor gathering up wayward bedroom slippers.

He put the first one on Joanna’s foot and it all clicked. 

“Daddy?” her father froze with a slipper in this hand.

“God dammit, is it that simple?” he muttered.

“Is what simple?”

McCoy snapped out of his thoughts, “Finished, getting dressed. We’ll eat on the way to the hospital.” 

The doctor bolted to the living room before she could reply.

###

“Approximately how long will it take until there are signs that this is working?”

“Who knows, Spock? It could be minutes, hours, or days,” McCoy’s eyes stayed glued to the biomonitors. 

“This will not solve his current battle with sepsis,” Spock watched the IV pump infusing its bright green contents into the man it was connected to. 

“Yeah, I know that, but if we can get his pain under control then his body will focus its fight on what’s important. Right now his systems are spread too far thin trying to do damage control over everything that’s wrong with him.”

“I understand.” 

“And if this doesn’t work?” 

“Then he’s dead anyways,” McCoy said grimly. 

Jim’s vitals slowly fell to more acceptable values. His steady stream of pain meds had been stopped some forty-five minutes earlier to clear his system and not interfere with the new compound circulating through his veins. Things had gotten dicey as Jim’s vitals skyrocketed with the ever increasing stress as the analgesics flushed out. 

McCoy let out a loud sigh of relief and the Vulcan relaxed ever so slightly. 

“That’s a good sign,” the numbers came down even more. “Once all of that shit is out we can start the pain meds back up.” 

“Doctor Marcus was able to identify the substance once you suggested taking a closer look at the pain receptors.” 

“Well don’t make me ask for it,” McCoy scoffed while tabbing through various screens on the biomonitors. 

“It is a venom that is found in a small mammal on Latara in the beta quadrant. It has only been encountered once before in the Federation records.”

“I’m gonna assume that there’s no antivenin?” 

“No record of one exists and the information regarding Latara is sparse. It seems that the planet is the preferred destination for escape from the Federation’s reach. Despite the lack of available information Doctor Marcus was able to adapt the antivenin for a type of a Denobulan jellyfish.” 

“Of course, why would they make it easy for once?” 

“I do not understand what the ease—” 

“Spock, that was sarcasm. I thought Uhura was helping you with that?” 

“She tends to frustrate easily while teaching me some of the more intricate nuances of Standard.” 

The doctor rolled his eyes and brought his focus back to Jim. The captain showed signs of cycling towards consciousness with the analgesics gone from his system. McCoy hit Spock in the arm when Jim’s fingers curled around the sheet covering his lower half.

McCoy moved in and replaced the sheets in Jim’s grasp with his own hand, “Jim? If you can hear me squeeze my hand.” 

Jim’s hand twitched under McCoy’s hand. 

“Good, Jim. I know you’re in pain, but we’ll take care of that soon. We finally found what was causing you so much pain and we’re getting rid of it now.” 

Another twitch but this time it was accompanied by his good eye opening halfway. McCoy hoped for a few minutes of clarity gained from the loss of the pain meds keeping his friend in oblivion. 

“Can you see me?” 

Jim’s vitals were creeping up again. 

“Hey, easy now. Just relax,” the doctor soothed. 

The eye shifted over to his first officer. 

“Doctor, may I assist?” Spock held up a hand splayed in a familiar gesture. 

“Jim?” 

The ailing man closed his eye in acceptance. Spock swiftly set his fingertips to Jim’s psi points and initiated a light meld. The captain calmed immediately as Spock sent soothing vibrations through the bond. 

“You with me?” McCoy asked Jim directly, staring hard at the clear blue eye. 

Spock replied, “He understands what is going on and he questions why his movement is restricted. He also requests that you remove the offending tube from his trachea.” 

“That’s exactly how he said it?” McCoy fought hard to keep the amusement of Spock translating Jim’s words so formally hidden. “There was damage to your spine. We’re keeping you immobilized to keep the swelling from getting worse. I can’t remove the tube from your throat until you’re doing better. You’re incredibly sick.”

“He wishes to know if he is paralyzed.”

McCoy dropped his head to his chest, “I don’t know, Jim. The spinal cord itself wasn’t breached but there’s a lot of swelling. We have to get this infection under control before we worry about that. There are some therapies we can try...” 

“I do not think that Jim finds that acceptable.”

“I know, Jim. We’re doing the best we can.” McCoy took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “I’m so sorry, Jim.” 

“I do not feel comfortable repeating his thoughts.” 

“Yeah, I can probably guess what he’s saying.” 

“Although he is not admitting it, I sense that his pain levels have become intolerable.” 

“The antivenin should almost be done neutralizing that shit. We’ll get your pain meds restarted right after that.” 

Jim’s eye closed in displeasure. 

“Daddy?” Joanna’s head appeared around the doorframe. 

Jim’s eye snapped open. 

“You up for a quick visit?” McCoy asked Jim, who was now straining to see around the men at his bedside. 

“I would conclude that is a ‘yes’”.

McCoy turned to Joanna, “C’mere, sweetpea.” 

Joanna ran to her favorite uncle’s side. McCoy guided Joanna’s small hand to take his place in Jim’s grasp. 

“Uncle Jim!” she buried her head into the juncture between his neck and shoulders. 

“Easy, Joanna,” McCoy saw the tubes and lines going into Jim tugging with all of the jostling from her eager hug and pulled her back. “We don’t want those lines ripped out.” 

“Jim says that she is fine,” Spock added Jim’s thoughts on the matter.

McCoy guided Joanna on her second approach and prevented the lines from tangling and pulling in her wake. Everyone in the room could sense Jim’s relief when the girl latched on to him. 

“Miss Joanna, Jim is enjoying your presence.” 

“I miss you, Uncle Jim.” 

“He misses you as well. He also wants to know why you are here and not at school.” 

“We’re on break and I had to make sure you know that you still owe me ice cream in New York.” 

“He has not forgotten, Miss Joanna.” 

“Good. You’re not off the hook.” 

Spock was quiet for a few moments before looking at McCoy, “Doctor, I believe that it would be prudent to restart the medications.” 

McCoy peered over his daughter to the man clearly in pain, “I’m watching it, Jim, the levels of toxin are almost down to where we can get the meds going again. Hang in there, kid.” 

Spock acted quickly, “Miss Joanna, perhaps you can inform Jim about what you are learning in school.” 

Joanna didn’t catch Spock’s subtle suggestion to get Jim’s mind off the pain but she happily recounted her lessons. Jim did his best to pay attention and Spock provided the right social response on his behalf when he lost focus. 

McCoy was watching the concentration of the venom in Jim’s body drop like a hawk on the screen and once the level dropped sufficiently he commanded the system controlling the medications to restart the pain meds infusion. He could tell the moment they hit Jim’s veins by the diminishing wrinkles on his forehead. 

Spock pulled his hand away with Jim’s impending drop into unconsciousness, “Miss Joanna, Jim is very tired now and he promises to resume your conversation at a later date.” 

Joanna stopped talking at the interruption. She looked at Jim’s facial muscles relaxing by the second. 

“Okay, Uncle Jim. Ice cream. Don’t forget.” 

Jim gave her hand a final squeeze before her father pulled her away.

“Rest, Jim,” McCoy put his warm hand on Jim’s forehead. 

Jim needed no other permission and promptly closed his eye in relief to drift away.

“All right, sweetpea, time to go home,” McCoy pulled his daughter to his side.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Detailed descriptions of torture and injury (adult) and imprisonment of a minor (not graphic). Language.
> 
> Special thanks to everyone who’s followed along.

###

“Okay, 1, 2, 3, now,” Boyce had a firm hold on the tube that had been supplying Jim’s body with oxygen.

McCoy watched the practiced physician pull the tube free of Jim’s trachea. The end of the tube exited the soft tissues with a wet ‘pop’ and left its former host coughing. A nurse pushed him out of her way and shoved a basin under her charge’s chin to catch anything coming up with all the spasms. 

“Captain, I need you to take some nice deep breaths for me,” Boyce’s eyes bounced between the vitals display and his patient. “The O2 field is going you don’t have to do anything but breathe.”

Jim tried to pull in as much of the oxygen as he could into his lungs but it wasn’t enough to give the people in the room a lot of confidence. 

“Hey kid, look at me,” McCoy took the basin from the nurse’s hands and forced himself into Jim’s limited field of vision. “Look at me, Jim.” 

Two panicked blue eyes locked onto soft hazel ones for a few seconds and then continued to ricochet around to the people standing over him. 

“You with me?” McCoy deftly caught a globule of phlegm with the basin. “Jim, right here.”

McCoy successfully drew and kept Jim’s attention by putting a gentle but firm hand on the side of the young man’s face.

“Hey, if you don’t calm down they’re going to put the tube back down your throat. I want you to take a nice deep breath.” 

Jim nodded and obeyed to the best of his ability.

“Good, now another one.”

Boyce and the nurses relaxed as the numbers on the vitals display started to level off. 

“There ya go. Take another one.”

Three minutes later and the room emptied save McCoy and his best friend, who was breathing normally with the aid of the oxygen field produced by the biobed. 

“Bo’,” Jim tried to lift his head off the thin pillow he was resting on. 

McCoy kept him down easily enough with a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Just because they released you from the immobilization field doesn’t mean you should be moving around. The work they did to your spine yesterday is still healing.” 

Jim tried to lift himself up again but McCoy was quick with a hand to his forehead. 

“Easy, Jim. You need to stay down.”

“ ‘nes,” he said in a pained huff. 

McCoy’s eyes flicked to the vitals display, “You need to calm down or the nurses will be in here to sedate you. What’s the matter? Is your back hurting you?” 

“Am I...,” Jim panted. 

“Are you what, Jim?” McCoy tried to follow Jim’s eyes to whatever he was so desperate to see.

“Legs,” Jim weakly strained against the doctor’s hand.

“Are your legs hurting you?” 

“No.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” 

Jim groaned in frustration, “Work?” 

Now he understood, “You want to know if you’re paralyzed?” 

Jim’s relaxation was all the answer he needed. McCoy walked to the foot of the bed and flipped the sheet and blanket back onto Jim’s legs.

“Wiggle your toes, kid.” 

The noise of disdain Jim made could definitely have been classified as a growl. The captain waited with baited breath for the signal from his brain to route itself through the spinal column and down to the very tips of his toes. The transmission time was slower than usual but millimeter-by-millimeter the digits moved. Jim nearly wept with relief. 

McCoy already knew the answer having witnessed the nerve testing conducted during the last surgery himself but it was still exhilarating to see the toes move from the direction of their conscious owner. He pulled the covers back over Jim’s feet and smoothed out the corners. 

“Is everything else fixed?” 

“Yeah, Jim, it is. Once Doctor Marcus helped us out with the venom in your back, your body was able to focus its fight on the infection, granted with the help of some serious antibiotics. Boyce finally closed the wounds on your back and set the fractures to your humerus and occipital bone four days ago. The scar tissue in your right ventricle was removed two days ago. Like I said earlier, they completed the last of the spinal work yesterday. Your kidneys and liver are being a little sluggish to return to their normal function but that should resolve in a few more days with medications.” 

Jim blew out a breath and closed his eyes. McCoy sat down, thinking that the conversation was over and that Jim was going back to sleep. 

“Bones?”

“Yeah, Jim?” 

“Joanna?” 

“She’s just fine, Jim. She’s doing well in school and wants to come see you on her next break.” 

“Is she okay-okay?”

“I think so. She talks to a counselor a couple of times a week but she’s bouncing back quickly.” 

“Good.” 

“The crew?” 

“Everyone’s fine, Jim. Just rest.” 

“Lenore?” Jim was desperately fighting his body’s apparent exhaustion. 

“Jim,” McCoy was terse. 

“Bones?” Jim turned his head to face his friend.

“Rest, we’ll talk later.” 

Jim huffed at the dismissal. His body couldn’t keep up with his brain and all of the new information to process. He looked over to the side of the bed to see that McCoy had tipped his head back against the chair’s headrest and closed his eyes, effectively cutting off any possibility of continuing the conversation. 

### 

“Alright, Jim, are you ready?” McCoy unfolded the metal contraption Jim was attempting to incinerate with his stare. 

“I’m not using that.”

“If you want to get out of that bed you will.” 

“Bones,” Jim fumed.

“Fine then, you infant. Stay in bed. You whine either way. I’ve got plenty of paperwork to do instead.” 

“Bones, you don’t have paperwork,” Jim rolled his eyes. 

“I’m catching up on research articles thank you very much,” McCoy refolded the metal bars. 

“Ugh, fine. Bring that damn thing here,” Jim was not too happy that McCoy wouldn’t yield.

“Oh, so now you want it now that I’ve folded it up already?” McCoy was already unfolding the metal bars. 

McCoy set the walker in front of the biobed, “Well come on darlin’, I’m not waiting all day.”

Jim winced and slowly swung his socked feet over the edge of the biobed. He nearly blushed to death as McCoy bent down and put sneakers over his feet. 

“Okay, nice and slow now.” 

Jim nodded irritatingly; he knew the drill by now. He planted his feet on the floor without putting any weight on them and leaned forward slightly to grasp the handgrips on the walker.

“Tell me now if your back is hurting. I don’t want to have to drag you back to bed,” McCoy stood off to the side ready if needed. 

“I’m good,” Jim gingerly pulled himself upright with most of his weight being supported by his arms.

McCoy lifted up the hem of Jim’s t-shirt and adjusted the fit of the brace wrapped around his lower back. 

“All set here,” McCoy straightened Jim’s shirt back over the brace.

Jim nodded and slowly shifted so that his legs supported his weight. The pain in his lower back spiked sharply and it was all he could do to keep the grimace from his face. He knew the doctor would cut the excursion short if he knew about the pain. 

“Alright?” McCoy noticed the slight hesitation before all of the weight transferred to Jim’s legs.

“Yep, lets go.” 

“After you, dear.” 

Jim was not amused with McCoy’s sass lately but pressed on with the careful placement of one foot in front of the other until he was in the hallway. There were markings on the floor that guided the rehabilitating patients to the direction of the day’s traffic flow for the mobile patients walking circuits around the ward. 

“Doing okay?” McCoy asked after Jim made the right turn out of his door. 

Jim rolled his eyes. 

“Jim, I know it's annoying but you have to tell me these things. If you push yourself too hard you’ll end up reversing all of the progress you’ve made. Remember, you’ve only been walking for a few days.” 

“I know, Bones,” Jim glanced at the friend by his side, keeping pace with him. 

What McCoy didn’t know was that the _Enterprise_ was being deployed to resume their schedule without them. They would be back in two months after their mapping assignments were completed to pick them back up once he was healed and McCoy and Spock were off suspension, but that did nothing to dispel the crabby mood he’d been in since Spock told him the previous evening. At this point the only thing he could do was to make sure he was ready when the ship came back. 

“Jim, you need to turn.” 

Jim looked up and saw that he was already at the end of the hallway and had to turn or run straight into the double doors that kept him trapped on the ward. He nodded and shuffled the walker to the left and followed with his body. 

“You alright, Jim?” McCoy had noticed the distant look in his friend’s eyes. 

“‘M fine, Bones.” 

“Yeah, I know you’re not but I’ll let it slide,” McCoy eyed their next turn. 

Jim looked at the doors longingly before he finished the turn and headed down the long part of the hallway.

“Jim, it is remarkably pleasing to see you mobile,” his First Officer was behind him holding a small paper box in his hands. 

Spock closed the distance to his captain before he had a chance to shuffle the walker to meet him. He had learned the hard way, and repeatedly, that twisting his back would end terribly. 

“Hey Spock,” he looked up from his hunched position.

“Greetings, Jim. Doctor McCoy.” 

“What’s up?” 

“Nothing new has transpired since we talked yesterday evening. Nyota has baked cookies and she wished for me to deliver them to you.” 

“She couldn’t come herself?”

“No, Jim. She is otherwise occupied with departure requirements.” 

“Departure?” McCoy interjected and held up a hand in front of Jim to make him stop. 

“You did not tell Doctor McCoy?” the Vulcan’s eyebrow raised a millimeter. 

“Tell me what?” 

“Gee, thanks for that, Spock.”

“My apologies, Captain. I assumed that you would notify Doctor McCoy of the recent changes to the _Enterprise’s_ schedule.” 

“You didn’t assume anything, pointy,” Jim huffed.

“Anyone care to clue me in?” McCoy’s southern drawl was more pronounced. 

“The ship is leaving us, Bones. Tomorrow afternoon.”

“What—“ 

“It is only temporary,” Spock interjected before McCoy’s temper shorted out in the middle of the hallway. “They are being ordered to resume our schedule and complete two months worth of mapping assignments. Mister Scott will return so that we can rejoin at the end of the assignment.” 

McCoy’s blood pressure dropped back to normal, “Jim, you had to have known they wouldn’t wait with the ship not needing repairs. You heard the hobgoblin, they’ll be back for us.”

“It’s not the same,” Jim pushed past McCoy and Spock. 

“Good job, Spock,” McCoy shot backwards as he caught up to the runaway captain. 

He continued at a breakneck pace, for him, until his lower back was spasming and he was panting as he rounded the last corner. 

“Jim, you need to slow down,” McCoy grabbed Jim’s arm. 

“ _Captain_ , this is only temporary.” 

“For now,” Jim breathed out. 

“Jim, I think you’re done here,” McCoy started to steer the man back to his room. 

“No!” Jim all but shouted. “I am not done.” 

“Jim, you need to calm down.” 

“I think we should return to your room,” Spock blocked Jim from being able to go further down the hall. 

“I’ll stop when I’m damn well ready to stop. Get out of my way.” 

Both McCoy and Spock were confused. Sure Jim had been in a foul mood for a while, but they still didn’t expect this. 

“Jim, if you return I will show you orders that prove that this is only a temporary measure.” 

“Orders can change.” 

Fed up with the two of them, Jim took the handles of his walker and twisted, trying to wrench it around the men blocking his path. The pain in his lower back was blinding. He lost his grip on the walker’s handles and crumpled. The Vulcan’s reflexes were lightning fast and he kept Jim from tumbling to the ground. McCoy quickly grabbed hold of Jim and helped Spock lower the man to the ground. 

“Easy, Jim,” McCoy soothed. 

The nurses at the ward’s station a few feet away heard the commotion and had already arrived with tricorders at the ready. One confirmed that no serious damage had been done while one delivered a dose of powerful analgesics to his carotid. Several tense seconds passed before he was breathing more regularly and the group was deciding the best way to return him to his room. In the end it was decided that they needed to keep him flat and a nurse ran off to fetch a gurney. 

Out of the corner of his eye Jim could see the concern etched in McCoy’s face and tense look that Spock was giving him. A corpsman arrived shortly with an antigrav stretcher and lowered it to the ground next to him. McCoy and Spock did most of the heavy lifting but everyone managed to get Jim onto the stretcher and settled back in his own biobed. The captain refused to look Spock or McCoy in the eye after the nurses left. 

He didn’t have to look at them because the nurses had commed Phil Boyce and he entered the room with a scowl on his face. Spock nodded to McCoy and left Jim’s side without his usual farewell. 

“I heard you decided to take a tumble in the hallway, Captain,” Boyce had already whipped out a tricorder. 

“Something like that,” Jim looked to the other side of the room. 

“Can you turn to your side for me?” 

Jim managed to turn to his side by pulling on the edge of the biobed. 

“Yikes, young man. There’s some serious swelling going on here,” Boyce had the wand of the tricorder centered over the repaired vertebrae. “How do you feel now?” 

“Still hurts like a bitch.” 

“Okay, Jim. The nurses said they gave you something already but I’ll get you some more and I want to inject the cortisol directly into the area. That should help the swelling go down and it’ll feel better a lot faster.” 

Jim knew what that meant and that was his least favorite of the treatments so far. There was something barbaric about jabbing a needle into his spine even if it did help. 

“Jim, did you hear me?” 

He grunted. Of course he heard. 

“Okay, let me go get what we’ll need. We’ll have you feeling better in no time.” 

Jim didn’t see the doctor depart with his eyes shut from the pain as he tried to roll onto his back. 

“Pull me up, Bones,” Jim growled at the man who stood there silently and watched him struggle. 

McCoy tightened his scowl before putting his arm behind Jim’s shoulders and lifting him upright, “Good?” 

Jim looked at his lap and nodded. His motions were uncoordinated and gangly as he tried to lift the hem of his t-shirt over his head. He sat there with the fabric half over his face before McCoy took the hint and finished pulling the garment free. A smirk did escape since McCoy folded the shirt instead of tossing it on the side table next to the box of cookies like he would’ve done. The brace came off easily and landed in a heap on top of his neatly folded t-shirt. He was pretty sure he heard McCoy mutter something about a pig sty under his breath as the man folded the discarded brace as well. 

“Okay, Jim,” Boyce entered with a sealed kit in his hand. 

Jim nodded silently and slowly turned so that his legs were dangling over the edge of the biobed. This wasn’t his first rodeo; the pain had been crippling and unrelenting the first few days after his final back surgery. He pulled his arms in and hunched over, opening up the vertebral spaces in his lower spine. 

Boyce set the kit down on the bed and pulled out a set of small discs from his pocket, “You know the drill. These are the contrasting sensors,” Boyce adhered the sensors to Jim’s back in a rectangle around the injection site. 

McCoy watched as a live image of the internal workings of Jim’s spine appeared on the biobed’s display screen. 

“Leonard, can you?” Boyce tilted his head. 

“Sure thing, Phil,” McCoy took position in front of Jim and grabbed hold of the man’s arms. 

Jim was exhausted and in enough pain that he bent over further and rested his head on his best friend’s chest. There was a reassuring squeeze from the hands holding him steady. The cold numbing spray surprised him but he remained still. 

“Okay, Jim, just some pressure,” he heard Boyce say from behind him. 

McCoy watched the image on the screen as a sharp needle was guided into an open space between two vertebrae. 

“Here comes the good stuff.” 

Relief came near instantaneously and Jim couldn’t help but sag in McCoy’s firm grip. The procedure ended quickly with Boyce withdrawing the needle, sealing the puncture site, and positioning Jim so that he was flat on his back. 

“How does that feel?” Boyce leaned over the bed so its occupant didn’t have to move. 

“Much better,” Jim relaxed into the thin mattress. 

“Good,” Boyce patted his patient’s shoulder before collecting the used supplies and leaving the room. 

It was obvious that Jim wasn't in the mood for company. 

“Get some rest, Jim. I’ll be back in the morning,” McCoy gathered his jacket and messenger bag. 

“Yeah, Bones.” 

### 

“Is there anything new about Lenore’s whereabouts?” McCoy asked the Vulcan next to him on the bench. 

“No new information has presented itself,” Spock said as they watched Jim walk with a cane around the outdoor rehabilitation track with a physical therapist at his side. 

“That bitch can't hide forever.” 

“It is likely that she will come out herself—” 

McCoy’s eyes flared, “You want to use Jim as bait? Are you out of your Vulcan mind?” 

“Leonard, if you would let me finish the statement you would see that I do not suggest using the captain as bait but to suggest that we remain vigilant. It is likely that she will attempt to finish what she started.” 

“That still sounds like bait to me. Have you talked to Jim about this?” 

“I have not. He is intelligent enough to realize this on his own.” 

“Spock, I'm not so sure he's thought about anything other than the _Enterprise_ since they left.” 

“I do not understand why he continues to despair; it will not change the outcome of the situation. He is neither physically ready to resume his command nor will the _Enterprise_ return ahead of their schedule.” 

“Give him some time, Spock, he just went through a traumatic event that drug up traumatic memories and then his ship leaves him.” 

“Is he not receiving adequate professional support to overcome this?” 

McCoy huffed, “The human brain is complicated. Since he's here at the hospital he is receiving the required mental health follow up but I haven't seen that it’s been doin’ him any good.” 

The conversation took a pause as Jim and his therapist walked past them to start a new lap.

“Have you tried talking to him?”

A snarky reply was on the tip of his tongue but the truth kept him silent. No he hadn't talked to Jim. 

“Gee it’s hard to start a conversation with ‘hey remember that time I shot you because a crazy bitch who was the daughter of a genocidal maniac kidnapped my kid to torture you?’” 

“Leonard—” there was the barest hint of exasperation in his voice. 

“No I get it, I’m just as frustrated as you are,” McCoy ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sure we’ll get him through it.” 

Spock was silent for a moment, “Have you been talking to a professional about your ordeal?” 

McCoy grimaced and remained silent. That particular can of worms wasn’t ready to be opened yet; he’d been so focused on Jim and Joanna that he hadn’t taken any time to process his own experiences. 

Jim’s and his PT had perfect timing and interrupted the two men from continuing their maudlin conversation. 

“Hey, Bones, Spock,” Jim breathlessly greeted them. 

“What’s up speedy?” McCoy couldn’t help himself.

“You’re a real comedian,” Jim rolled his eyes. “Good news is I’m busting out of this joint tomorrow.” 

“Are you sure?” “That is encouraging news” McCoy and Spock replied at the same time. 

“I’m going to go with Spock on this one,” Jim huffed at the over protective doctor’s anticipated reply. 

“Don’t you have more laps to do?” the doctor bristled. 

Jim wasn’t having any of the man’s shortened temper, “Actually, I’m all done already.”

McCoy paused to think about all of the events over the last few weeks that had passed and how everything in his life was moving at warp speed all of a sudden. From his daughter being taken to Jim clinging to life by his fingernails, it was a lot of memories to parse through. 

“Bones?” he snapped back to awareness with a hand waving in his face. 

“What?” McCoy huffed, “Can’t a man take a stroll down memory lane?” 

If Jim and Spock shared a look, he didn’t point it out to them. McCoy rose and brushed the imaginary dirt from his jacket. 

“Well come on, I’m sure you’re itching to have your last cup of rehab jello.” 

### 

“Bones, why can’t I stay at my apartment?” Jim whined as McCoy herded him through the open door. 

MCoy’s hand around Jim’s duffle clenched, “I told you, you still need someone with you and your place only has one bedroom. At least if you’re here I can have a bed while I play nursemaid. Stop whinin’, you know we live in the same building right?” 

Jim wasn’t happy with the situation either. He’d be lying to himself if he weren’t itching for a little space between him and the increasingly moody doctor. Jim huffed and shuffled to the couch with his cane. 

“It’ll be like old times,” McCoy’s voice came through the guest room. 

“Yeah-yeah,” Jim let himself be enveloped by the cushions. 

For what it was worth, the doctor’s furniture was a lot homier than the utilitarian furnishings that filled his own apartment. It also didn’t go unnoticed that part of the living arrangement was likely due to the fact that Lenore still had not been captured despite Starfleet’s efforts and neither Spock nor McCoy wanted him left alone. 

“Comfy?” McCoy had returned sans duffle bag. 

“Mmm hmm.” 

“How’s your back?” McCoy’s hands were twitching for a tricorder.

Jim huffed, “Fine for now. I’ll probably want a pain pill in a bit.” 

“Alright, I’ll have it ready then. I put your stuff away. Spock said he’s comin’ by for dinner and Jo says you owe her a comm since you missed yesterday’s.”

“Crap that’s right, you got a comm on you?” 

Jim’s motor responses weren’t quite as sharp or as quick as they used to be and the plastic device hit him in the cheek. 

“That’ll get better,” McCoy said, seeing his friend’s obvious frustration.

Jim ignored the mother hen and flipped open the comm, finding Joanna’s signal already in the directory. 

“ _Uncle Jim_!” a cheery Joanna picked up after a few seconds. 

“Hey, how’s my brave girl?” he couldn’t keep the smile from forming. 

_“Better now. You know you missed our comm time yesterday?”_

“I offer my deepest apologies,” Jim’s voice dripped with charm. 

_“Well you can make it up to me next month. We’ll be on summer break.”_

“And have you asked your mother if that’s alright?” Jim could feel McCoy’s tension rising from across the room. 

“ _Yes, Uncle Jim_ ,” the McCoy sass was easily heard through the speaker. “ _I’m tellin’ you so you can make reservations for ice cream in New York_.”

“Oh I see.” 

“ _That’s right, time to pay up_.” 

“There’s no denying who your father is, Jo.” 

“ _I know. Nana says the stubbornness is passed on in our hazel eyes._ ” 

_“Joanna!”_

“ _That’s momma, I need to go_.” 

“Alright, I’ll comm you tomorrow, Jo.” 

“ _Bye, Uncle Jim._ ” 

“Love you, Joanna,” McCoy called out across the room. 

“ _Love you more, Daddy. Bye,”_ Joanna disconnected the signal. 

“Jim—“ McCoy saw Jim’s shoulders deflate.

“A month is plenty of time to get back up to speed, Bones.” 

“Well you can start by getting over here and eating lunch so you can take your pain meds.” 

“There’s the Bones we all love,” Jim muttered trying to push off the soft couch cushions. 

“Here,” McCoy was ready with a strong hand pulling him upright. 

“I feel like I just sat down,” Jim shuffled to the small dining room table that overlooked the other high-rise buildings. 

McCoy set down a plate of finger foods in front of Jim. His fine motor control was still improving after the CNS damage and these foods kept him from spilling all over him. They also kept him from getting frustrated while eating. The doctor set down his own plate of the same foods and took the opposite chair. Jim swallowed the pill on the edge of the plate first before picking up a carrot stick.

### 

McCoy rolled over in his bed and was immediately awake. He had been having trouble sleeping since that first comm with Joanna’s tearful face staring back at him. It had been almost two months of surviving on minimal sleep and too much coffee. He growled when he saw the way too early time on his bedside chronometer. The covers were thrown off in anger and he padded quietly to the kitchen for a glass of water. The rest of his apartment was dark save for the city lights that streamed through the glass wall that made up his living and dining room. He hated this apartment but he was in it so rarely it just was not worth the effort to move out of Fleet housing. 

A dark mass of someone in a hooded sweatshirt sitting at the dining table startled the ever-loving shit out of him. 

“Lights,” McCoy barked.

“Bones, it’s just me,” the now easily identifiable Jim shaped mass winced as the lights were brought up so quickly. 

“Jesus H Christ, Jim,” McCoy had to clutch his chest to try and slow down his breathing. 

“Lights to ten percent,” Jim commanded, finally opening his eyes in the restored darkness. 

“What the hell are you doing there sittin’ in the dark?” McCoy drained a glass of water in front of the kitchen sink. 

“Probably the same reason as you.”

“I can have Phil write you up something to help you sleep.” 

Jim sighed, “And what about you, Bones?” 

McCoy didn’t know how to answer that one. 

“Aren’t we a pair?”

Again McCoy was silent as he leaned against the counter.

“Spock still hasn’t heard of any sighting of Lenore.” 

“I don’t think we should go out lookin’ for trouble,” McCoy moved to take a seat at the table with Jim. 

It was then he saw a liquor bottle and a full shot glass in front of the man. 

“Have you been drinking, Jim?” 

Jim looked down as if he’d forgotten he poured himself a drink. 

“Actually no. I thought I wanted one…” 

McCoy had his own problems but he quickly shoved them aside to recognize the warning sirens coming from Jim. 

“Are you having flashbacks or just nightmares?” 

“Does it make a difference if I’m awake or asleep when it happens?” Jim toyed with the shot glass of amber liquid; “I thought I’d finally put Tarsus behind me when _he_ died. Well as much as one can for surviving a genocide.”

McCoy clenched his teeth; this was going to be a bumpy ride. 

Jim was unusually loose-lipped despite the lack of alcohol, “I thought that place was going to be great and I was going to get to learn all this stuff.” 

“It may not have been the lessons you wanted to learn, but it did help you become the great _Captain_ James Tiberius Kirk.” 

“Yeah, nothing like having to hide and take care of a dozen kids while you’re a teenager and then have to endure torture because you’re captured while trying to find them food. They didn’t say all that at my commissioning ceremony did they?” 

McCoy took a steadying breath, “I think you need to see someone, Jim. This is a lot to process and you need more help than a few shots and a shoulder to cry on.” 

“Boy, wouldn’t Fleet Psych love that. They’re already up my ass for recertification after ‘extensive injuries’.” 

“Jim, you were tortured.” 

“I know, Bones. I was there.” 

“I know you half assed your sessions after that Khan shit, but it might be good to finally work on this with someone who can help you. I can see who’s outside the Fleet network.” 

Jim squared McCoy in the eye, “Are you going to take your own advice, Doctor McCoy?” 

“What?” 

“I know you didn’t get up in the middle of the night to give me some psycho-babble lecture.” 

“I’m not sure my issues quite stack up to yours.” 

“Bones, your kid was taken. You’re allowed to have issues.”

Well the cat was truly out of the bag now. 

“And I shot you so I could deliver you to that bitch who tortured you.” 

“Bones, I’m not in any way upset with you. This was my plan and while it didn’t go quite the way I thought it would, it did work out. We got Joanna back fairly unharmed.”

“I thought I’d lost the both of you…” McCoy had to look away. 

“I know, Bones. I’ll be honest, I thought you guys would’ve been a little faster getting there, but you getting tossed in jail weren’t exactly what I had in mind. I really thought they would’ve handed her over once they got me so all you had to do was come get me.” 

Jim slid the shot glass over to the despondent doctor. His hands shook as he raised the glass and downed the alcohol. McCoy sputtered at the sudden and sharp burn. 

“What the hell are you drinkin’?” 

“I don’t know, it was on your bar shelf,” Jim pulled back the glass and poured himself a shot.

Jim took a hesitant sniff before downing the amber liquid. The burn made his eyes water. 

“This shit is awful, Bones.”

“You pulled it down. Besides, you shouldn’t be drinking while on your meds.” 

Jim rolled his eyes, “Bones, tell Doctor McCoy to can it for like an hour.” 

Jim poured another shot and pushed it to the man. 

“What the hell,” McCoy toasted the glass and knocked back the liquid. “Fuck that’s awful.” 

“Here, let me try it again,” Jim waved his hand to get the shot glass back and fill it. “Ugh, that shit’s gross.”

McCoy took the shot glass, “Stop drinking it then.” 

“Too bad you weren’t in jail long enough to learn how to brew pruno,” Jim pulled the glass back to him.

“What’s pruno?”

“Wine from whatever fruit made in the toilet.”

“That’s fucking disgusting. How do you know about it?” 

Jim’s ears turned red and his cheeks flushed, and not because of the alcohol, “I uh...” 

McCoy knew what that silence meant and didn’t want to poke that bear, “Well since you’re so familiar with the penal system then you know I had to cup my balls and bend over because of you.” 

Jim howled with laughter and pulled the glass back towards him for another shot, “Hey, I’m not the one who told you to go lose your shit and have yourself arrested.” 

McCoy took the glass and refilled it for himself, “How was I supposed to know? Dammit man, I’m a doctor not a seasoned criminal.” 

### 

“Are the two of you ill?” Spock approached the booth Jim and McCoy had procured at a ‘never replicated’ diner near their building.

Jim looked up through the sunglasses he had over his eyes and McCoy lifted off the glass window he’d been propped against. 

“Something like that,” McCoy groused. 

Jim motioned to the empty seat next to him and Spock sat down gracefully. 

“Bones may have forgotten he had to turn in his med kit while he was suspended.” 

“I fail to see how—“ 

“It means I don’t have access to those fancy Fleet hangover cures and somehow we decided it was a good idea to get shit faced at zero dark thirty this morning.” 

“I see. May I ask what precipitated the need to become intoxicated?” 

“I think he’s mad we didn’t invite him.” 

“On the contrary, Leonard, the rest I have received of late has been above average.”

“So you find it more peaceful without your girlfriend around?” 

Jim was trying to hide his smirk as the doctor needled the Vulcan. After a few minutes it was no longer amusing and grating on his headache, “Enough you two.” 

Jim tossed his shades to the table when their waitress stopped by and dropped off their food. Spock refused to comment on the amount of meat or grease on either of the humans’ plates and spooned his plomeek soup quietly. 

“That’s better,” McCoy pushed back, the grease finally absorbing the remnants of the alcohol. 

“Anything on Lenore?” Jim sopped up the last bits of egg yolk with half a piece of toast. 

Spock put down his spoon, “There’s been a few sightings but her pattern is not as random as she’s trying to make it appear to be.” 

Jim tossed down the last crust of his toast, “Sightings where?” 

“Various planets on the edge of the Alpha quadrant. The majority have been in open air markets and she’s looking directly at the cameras.”

“So she’s trying to get a good capture for facial recognition?” 

“It would appear so.” 

“Do you think she’s even at these places at all?” 

“No Leonard, I do not. I believe this is an attempt at misdirection.” 

“Watch that crazy bitch already be here on Earth,” McCoy took a long gulp of his coffee.

“Bones is probably right. She has to know we’re smarter than that.”

“We should remain vigilant.”

“Well I don’t really go anywhere except to PT and I’m already in Bones’ apartment.”

“How much longer until the ship gets back?” 

“Seventeen days.”

“Well, Jim, time is runnin’ out if she’s going to try something.” 

“Leonard, do you have any weapons at your residence?”

“Why would I have a phaser at home? I’m a doctor and one that’s barely there as it is…”

“It’s fine, Bones. Spock can you get us each one?”

“Yes, Jim. Starfleet security is aware of this and will monitor your building closely.”

“So we’ll just be ready for when she decides to show up again.”

“Good thing the bait lives with me,” McCoy scoffed. 

###

“Hey, Bones, I’ll be up in a second. I need to drop off my swim gear in my apartment,” Jim punched the button for his floor in the turbolift. 

“You can use my refresher.” 

“I know, I don’t want to drip all over your place. I’m just going to set mine to run and then head up to shower.” 

Jim looked down at the small puddle underneath him on the floor. His PT regime lately had been water exercises and swimming, as it didn’t put a lot of weight on his spine. The lift stopped and the doors opened to the floor for Jim’s apartment. He wasn’t quite sure how an aviophobe acquired a unit higher up in the skyscraper. 

“Sure thing, kid,” McCoy said to Jim’s retreating back. 

Jim looked back to see the doors shut and he headed towards his studio apartment. His unit had extra security and he had to place his palm against the display screen before the door swished open.

The air in his apartment seemed off and immediately the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He crossed to his bookshelf and pulled a phaser from a cut out compartment inside a real paper book. 

Weapon in hand, he swept the small studio space and found nothing out of place. He tossed his wet swim shorts and towel in the refresher by his bathroom and programmed it to run. Another sweep of the space and he left his apartment with the phaser hidden in the waistband of his sweats. The ride up to McCoy’s floor was tense and he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He sent a quick comm to Spock before the door opened and he turned down the hallway to the apartment. 

He pulled the phaser from his back and aimed it down at the floor before tabbing the door open. He didn’t enter. Moments of silence passed by, usually he heard some kind of noise from the doctor moving. 

“I don’t have all day, James. Do come in.”

His mind immediately went to red alert and he pressed himself flat against the wall. For all he knew she was waiting to shoot him as soon as he crossed the threshold. He flipped open his comm and punched the screen to connect him to Spock’s device and left it open in his pocket.

“Where’s Doctor McCoy?” 

“He’s right here.”

“Bones?” it was damn near impossible to keep from peering around the door frame.

“Well say something, Leonard.” 

Jim heard silence. 

“Now you shut up?” there was a hefty thud.

“I’m here, Jim. She’s got a phas—oof.” 

Another thud followed by a loud swear, “See, he’s right here. Now do come out, James. No doubt you’re stalling until authorities arrive and I don’t intend to be here when they arrive.” 

“And just let you shoot me?” 

“If you’re not in that door by the time I count to five you can spend the rest of the day cleaning up this man’s brains. One, two, three—“

Jim assumed his shooting stance and entered with his phaser first, “I’m right here.”

“Finally,” the sound came from the middle of McCoy’s living room. 

Lenore had the doctor on his knees with a tight grip of his hair and a non-Federation phaser pressed under his jaw. There was a sluggishly bleeding wound over his ear that was staining his shirt collar. 

“You okay?” Jim’s eyes briefly flicked to the doctor. 

“Damn bitch.” 

Lenore pressed the phaser harder.

“You took your sweet time,” Jim had to readjust his grip on the phaser; he had been holding it tight enough to cut off the circulation in his fingers. 

“What can I say? I like to play with my food.” 

“I really don’t want to listen to this bit again.” 

“So dramatic, James. It would’ve been too easy to kill you while you were recovering and weak. Killing wounded animals just doesn’t have the same thrill as an open hunt.” 

“Lenore, why are you here?” Jim tried to stall while he thought of his options. 

“To make you suffer like I’ve had to, James.” 

“Damn, you really are bat shit crazy.”

“You don’t know real crazy, James.” 

It grated on him that she kept using the name her father used.

“Well I guess your father was more of a genocidal maniac than your regular crazy.” 

“My father was a visionary.” 

“Yeah, takes real talent to murder thousands of people and torture a few dozen others, including kids.” 

“You should be grateful he wanted you to live.” 

“Pretty sure that’s not my first choice of wording,” Jim thought Spock would’ve been here by now. 

Lenore shoved the phaser harder into McCoy’s jaw and he grunted. Jim needed to handle this situation before it got worse.

“So what’s your big plan for making me suffer? It’ll be hard to beat eating the food they give you at the hospital.” 

McCoy rolled his eyes. 

“I’m going to make you watch your doctor die and then I’m going to finally kill you once and for all.” 

“What makes you so sure about that?” Jim locked onto McCoy’s eyes as his brain zeroed in on a plan. 

In a matter of milliseconds Jim lowered his phaser, pulled the trigger, flipped the weapon to kill, and fired a second shot once the doctor was out of the way. Both McCoy and Lenore collapsed into a pile within a fraction of a second of each other.

“Bones!” Jim wasn’t sure if Lenore managed to get off a shot or not before he hit her.

He sprinted to the pile of bodies. Lenore’s body was still twitching but her eyes were lifeless when he rolled her off McCoy. 

“Bones!” Jim heaved McCoy to his back.

He put two fingers under the man’s jaw and felt a steady pulse. A pupil contracted when he pulled apart an eyelid with his thumb and forefinger. Jim ran his hands over the doctor checking for injuries. He couldn’t find anything other than the laceration over his ear. 

“Jim?” Spock rushed into the room flanked by heavily armed Starfleet security. 

“Where were you like five minutes ago?” Jim dropped to the floor as the adrenaline in his blood plummeted. 

Spock pulled the phaser from Jim’s hand and passed it to a security officer. 

“Is Leonard alive?”

Jim struggled to process the words but the security personnel had already swarmed over the two bodies. 

“He’s alive, looks like he took a stun to the chest,” one officer was scanning McCoy. “Let’s get a medic team up here.”

“She’s dead,” another scanned Lenore.

“How did she stun him with this? It does not have that feature,” Spock examined the phaser in Lenore’s open hand. 

Jim rubbed the back of his neck, “About that, he’s going to be _really_ pissed when he wakes up.” 

Spock’s reply was cut off by a loud groan.

“I’m gonna kill that asshole,” McCoy was helped to a sitting position by a medic who’d arrived. “Dammit this hurts like a son of a bitch.” 

Jim tried to inch away from the angry doctor rubbing his chest where the stun had hit him. 

“God damn nerves are on fire,” he tried to stand up but the medic kept him seated. “Where is that bitch? Is she dead?”

“Yeah, Bones,” Jim’s eyes flicked to the body being put in a liner for transport. 

“Good riddance.” 

Jim looked at the now full body bag; it was never easy killing even if it was in self-defense. 

“You all right, Bones?”

“No I’m not all right, you fucking shot me,” McCoy was helped to his feet. “Why did you have to shoot me?” 

Jim rolled his eyes; McCoy was clearly well enough to gripe. 

“Call it payback.”

“You asshole, it was your idea—.” 

“Gentlemen, I believe the authorities would like to finish their responsibilities,” Spock ended the bickering.

“We can go down to my apartment.” 

McCoy nodded and tossed a hand at Jim’s direction, “Get the medics to look him over.” 

This was the last thing Jim wanted, “Booooones.”

###

“You sure?” Jim eyed the girl in front of him on the bustling sidewalk.

“Don’t even think about backin’ out now, Uncle Jim.”

“Okay okay?” he held his hands up in surrender. 

“Let’s not dawdle.”

Jim had to do a double take to see which McCoy he was actually with. He pulled open the real door in a grand gesture, “Well lead the way, Miss Joanna.”

The inside of the ice cream parlor was incredibly opulent. The ceiling was high and the intricate crown molding was decorated in shimmering gold. Crystals on the many chandeliers sparkled in the afternoon light that filtered through the stained glass windows.

“Holy cow,” Joanna’s eyes were wide as saucers.

“We had a reservation under ‘McCoy’,” Jim approached the hostess stand.

“Right this way, please,” the hostess gave no indication that she recognized the most famous Starfleet captain in her generation.

Joanna twirled to take in all the sights as they were led to an alcove containing a plush velvet booth.

“They’ll be out with the sundae shortly.”

Jim nodded and took his seat opposite Joanna, “Well?”

“This place is amazing.”

Jim’s eyes twinkled with delight, “Great. I hope it lives up to expectations.”

They didn’t have to wait long, the sundae was only available by reservation. A waiter with an old fashioned red bow tie appeared with a large crystal punch bowl and set it on the table before them. The scoops of different flavors of ice cream were piled several inches above the rim of the bowl and covered generously with an assortment of toppings that included edible gold leaf. Joanna’s eyes nearly bulged from her head when she was presented with the gold spoon she would need to attack the dessert with. Jim was handed his in a less dramatic fashion.

“Enjoy, mademoiselle,” the waiter bowed.

Jim couldn’t wipe the grin off his face seeing his favorite kid’s delight.

“Well have at it, a deal’s a deal.”

Joanna’s spoon was poised over a scoop made from an exotic chocolate when she paused.

“Everything okay?” Jim’s own spoon hovered over a scoop of what looked to be Andorian pear.

“You’re all better?”

Jim had not expected that from the young McCoy, “Of course, we ship out in two days. Why do you ask?”

“Just checkin’.”

“I promise your dad is the only McCoy I need worried about me.”

“Daddy says you have the self preservation instincts of a Bajoran mayfly.”

“What? Where does he even come up with those sayings?”

“No idea, Uncle Jim.”

“Well it’s not true. You better start on this ice cream before it melts.”

It seemed like Joanna wanted to say something else but changed her mind and drove the shiny gold spoon into the rich ice cream.

“You better keep that spoon in your pocket to remind you not to do anything silly again,” she said with her mouth full.

“Anything for you, Miss Joanna,” Jim made a dramatic eye roll to the hovering McCoy before dipping his spoon into the bowl.

### 

Jim stood with an arm against the transparent aluminum window overlooking the buzzing main spherical habitat of Starbase 1. Drone resupply ships and transport shuttles swarmed to the aft section of the _Enterprise_ as she was readied for the next long segment on her five-year mission. His other hand held a golden spoon that he absent-mindedly tapped against his thigh. 

“All decks report ready, Captain,” Spock had entered the observation lounge silently.

“Thanks, Spock,” Jim said without turning his gaze. 

There was a long pause, “Is all well, Captain?” 

“Huh? Yeah, it’s fine,” Jim finally turned from the window. 

“You seem unusually preoccupied given our imminent departure.” 

“It’s just been a busy week.”

“How was ice cream with Miss McCoy?” 

“I have _literally_ never seen anyone eat that much ice cream at one time before.” 

“And how did the doctor receive his child with a sucrose enhanced amount of energy?” 

Jim chuckled, “How do you think it went?” 

“Has Doctor McCoy recovered?” 

“Barely—“ 

“Jim, where the hell have you been?” McCoy barged into the lounge with his hands gesturing wildly. 

“Careful what you ask for, Spock,” Jim said quietly to his first officer before putting on a smile for the booming. “Hey, Bones.” 

“Jim, I’ve been lookin’ all over the damn ship for you,” McCoy quickly crossed the room. 

“What can I do for you, Bones? I’ve already approved your six last minute requisitions.” 

McCoy waved his hand dismissively, “You’ll thank me for that when half of the crew isn’t bleeding from their eyes when they don’t catch Andorian shingles or dies from some form of alien meningitis.” 

Jim tried hard to hold back his eye roll and even Spock stiffened in annoyance. 

“Did you come with a purpose, Doctor McCoy?” 

“What? No, I just came to make sure he wasn’t off somewhere brooding.”

Jim should’ve known, those damn McCoys were insightful.

“I’m fine, Bones. Just watching the last of the cargo being loaded,” Jim nodded to the frenzy of activity outside the window.

McCoy was not buying it, “Sure, but I’ll let it go for now.”

“Bones, I really am fine. I set up my appointments to be by video comm when we have stable links.” 

“What appointments?” Spock asked. 

Jim nearly died from embarrassment at the slip of his tongue, “Uh, head shrink.” 

“There is no need to feel shame at receiving treatment with scientifically validated results,” Spock did not understand the shame on his captain’s face. 

“Sure, Spock. Just keep it quiet if you would?” 

“Of course, Jim,” Spock remembered one of Uhura’s lessons on the complexity of human behavior about people wanting to avoid talking about difficult subjects. 

“How’s Joanna?” Jim changed the subject as quickly as he could. 

“She’s fine, cried something fierce yesterday at the terminal when I left her to fly back to her mom. She made me remind you that you are to keep the spoon in your pocket at all times.”

Jim held up the gold spoon, “You can tell her that her orders have been executed faithfully.”

“Yeah, well the next time you give my kid a sugar high that lasts half a day and all evening, you’ll be babysitting her instead of rushing off to get the ship ready.” 

“Sorry about that, I honestly had no idea she could eat that much ice cream,” Jim really did feel bad about that. 

_“Bridge to Commander Spock_.” 

Spock stepped away to answer the comm and then made his leave after his attention was required elsewhere. 

“Now that Spock left, how are you really, Jim?” Bones stepped up to the window next to the captain. 

Jim ran a hand through his short locks, “Ah, I don’t know. I think I’m getting there.” 

McCoy clapped his friend on the arm, “That’s okay. It takes time and not every day will be a good one. All I ask is you come find me if it’s a bad one. I’m also available for good days also.” 

Jim looked at the man, “Thanks, Bones. I really mean it.” 

“So, ready to light this candle?” McCoy arched his eyebrow at the flutter of activity around the base. 

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Jim clapped the doctor on the back and pulled them towards the door.

“Now that you mention it,” McCoy gripped Jim’s bicep; “There are a few boosters I need to give you before we leave.” 

Jim dug his heels into the deck and the doctor’s grip tightened, “C’mon, Bones. Now?” 

“Yeah, Jim. Now.”

”Bones, can we please talk about this?” Jim pleaded as he was manhandled out of the room. 

“Well I certainly wasn’t going to tell you beforehand so you could hide.” 

“Boooones,” Jim whined.


End file.
